The Forgotten
by drdanieljacksonsgc
Summary: SG-1 visits RA1-786, Raahe, in hopes of gaining a powerful ally in their fight against the Goa'uld. During a terrorist strike, members of the team are killed...or are they? This is a/u, please read all story notes.
1. SG1 is Dead

**Warnings:** Chapters 1 thru 10 are rated T. Chapter 10 and beyond have been rated M (for safety) due to potentially mature subject matter and language, brief nudity, sexual situations, graphic violence. This fic will contain no graphic sex scenes.

**Type:** Adventure-Romance

**Category:** Various, will run the gamut of action/adventure, romance, hurt-comfort, etc.

**Characters**: SG-1, Canon SG-1 Characters, Various original characters created for this fic.

**Pairings:** Daniel Jackson/Samantha Carter, Jack O'Neill/*Dr. Madison Garman

**Summary:** SG-1 visits RA1-786, Raahe, in hopes of gaining a powerful ally in their fight against the Goa'uld. During a terrorist strike, members of the team are killed...or are they?

**Credits:** Co-written by Kadi and Deej (me)

**Notes:** This fic was created and started as a _just for fun_ adventure to satisfy fan-girl cravings for romance and pairings. We decided that the premise was good and others might enjoy reading the story as well.

This story's setting is based on a roleplaying game's universe that several of us participate in, however, this particular story is original and being written by only the two of us although our other writing partners are quite welcome to give us input on the characters they play at the actual RPG site.

Setting/Backstory: As of 2009, The SGC has only been in operation for eight years. The timeline was adjusted forward for ease of story telling.

Canon History Alterations: Janet Fraiser was not killed in the season 7 episode Heroes (Pt. 1 and 2), she was critically injured and has since returned to her position at the SGC. Most events depicted in the season 8 TV episodes did not occur. Col. Jack O'Neill remains the team leader for SG-1 (In a previous RPG story, he was killed on a mission and interred in an experimental prototype sarcophagus. The end result was that all injuries were healed including a majority of the health issues engendered by aging. The sarcophagus regressed his physical age roughly ten years). Due to a new requirement, Captain Cameron Mitchell was recently assigned to the SGC and subsequently to SG-1 as Mission Specialist II.

Authors' Note: One of this story's themes is about a character's descent and redemption. Jack O'Neill is not being portrayed as the bad guy simply to enhance the other characters' images. If, however, you do not like to read stories where the main canon characters are less honorable than usual, you may wish to not read this one.

*The character of Dr. Madison Garman is an original creation by Kadi . As such, this character is copyrighted to her and should not be recreated in fictions written by others without express written and verifiable permission.

**Disclaimer:** Stargate SG-1, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate Universe, all Stargate created programs, literature, movies, and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret productions, and Gekko Productions.* This Stargate fan fiction story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter 1: SG-1 is Dead...**

Teal'c stood silently before the Stargate. He steadfastly refused to look at the four body bags that lay on the dais or at the members of SG-3 that had come to RA1-786 to assist in returning the other members of SG-1 to Earth for the final time. The only movement was when he would glance over at Cameron Mitchell noting the shell-shocked look on the younger man's face. The Jaffa needed time to process his shock and grief as well. He was unable to assist Cameron Mitchell at this time. _'Later,'_ Teal'c thought, '_there will be time later...'

* * *

_

**Aleria, Upper City, Echelon Residential Section**

Commander Jerard Owynne struggled to fasten the ornate catch at the throat of his uniform. The stark black tunic and trousers with their distinctive silver piping were the more formal uniform of his unit. Today, he was meeting with the Exalted to determine how best to hunt down the insurgents that had caused the death of their off world visitors. Finally, he growled in disgust and dropped the sterling and gold clasp that was meant to fasten the throat of the uniform thus denoting his rank, status and seniority. He would not don any of the numerous medals that lay in their box on his dresser. The Exalted had never served during war. Flaunting his awards and commendations would be considered an insult.

"Jerard, you're going to be late." Machelle Owynne breezed into the room already dressed for a day at the hospital. She held a position of Senior hospital staff, made possible by her family's modest wealth and influence within the city. She smoothed an invisible crease from the simple deep blue tunic and skirt. "You always struggle with this," she said with some amusement as she lifted the clasp. "I think it's because you know I will do it for you. Now let me see." She took his shoulders and turned her husband of ten years toward her. With the simple ease of practice she fastened the clasp into place. She brushed her hands across his shoulders and down his sides, straightening his tunic before stepping back. "There, now are you are respectable for the Exalted."

Turning, Owynne graced his wife's lips with a kiss, "Nothing is ever respectable enough for the Exalted. However, as often told..._ ours is not to reason why..._" The Commander paused as he sought the origins of the quote. At last he simply shrugged it off, sure that it had come from some famous Waros during training.

"Well you look very dashing," She told him. "Perhaps a little too dashing," She teased. "Do not be late, and do not forget, we are having dinner tonight. Not even a meeting with the Exalted will save you from that fate."

"Just tell me it is not with your parents," Owynne stated as he picked up his sidearm and attache' case. "Don't worry, I won't be late and your aid won't let me forget." With a last look in the hall mirror and a final kiss for Machelle, Jerard waved his hand over the bio-sensor on the door and watched as it slid open before stepping out into the patch of green that was their front lawn.

* * *

**Aleria, Lower City, Candle Residential Section**

Sunlight streaming in the dusty window brought Darius slowly to consciousness. For a moment, he panicked thinking he was late for his shift in the Harconn mine. But no, today was his off shift day and he could spend it however he liked. Darius started to stretch but feeling a weight other than his own, he finally opened his eyes. Draped along his length with one graceful arm across his chest and one long leg coiled around his, Sabyl...his wife...slept soundly with her head tucked against his chest.

He was loathe to disturb her but last night's round of drinking at the pub was coming back to haunt him. Carefully extricating himself from the glorious blond goddess, he padded to the adjoining ensuite hygiene chamber. A few moments later, feeling a lot less pressured, and cleaner as he'd washed off and scrubbed his teeth, he slid back into bed.

"Mmm..." She stirred when he rejoined her and wriggled closer to his warmth. "You were out very late," she said in a sleep-thickened voice. "I missed you last night." Sabyl had gone to bed before he returned, but Darius worked very hard in the mine, he needed those nights away with his friends. She turned her face into his chest and placed a gentle kiss upon it.

Darius scooted closer and pulled Sabyl into his arms once again marveling at how lucky he was to have caught the tall blond's attention all that time ago. "I'd have been better for coming on home where I belonged," he commented softly. "I suggest we spend today right here."

He was rewarded with a thick, throaty chuckle. "Darius, we can't stay in bed all day." She wound her leg through his again. "Perhaps for half of it..." Sabyl settled against him. "I do not mind your time with your friends. You work hard, you deserve it."

Frowning, he felt a chill run up and down his spine raising the fine hairs along his well-muscled arms, "And you work hard in City Service. We deserve our off shift time...and just think...we have two whole days this period." There was a pause as Darius tried to remember better what had passed the night before, "However...I do think I need to lay off the beer...I don't remember coming home last night."

Sabyl chuckled at him. "Worry not. You never remember coming home when Natal and Micah are about." She reached up and cupped his face. "Two whole days, together." She wondered for a moment why that should seem so odd to her, but pressed it aside as part of her still sleep fogged brain.

* * *

**Stargate Command, Level 27, Main Briefing Room**

General George Hammond felt a thousand years old as he entered the briefing room. He seriously considered making this his last such briefing and retiring post haste. Yet, he could not dishonor the other good people that served this command in that manner.

Looking at each face as he took his seat made the General have to look away for a moment as he felt his own tired eyes glaze in response to the grief and sorrow he was witnessing. SG-3, Teal'c, Captain Cameron Mitchell, and Dr. Janet Fraiser were arrayed around the table. Dr. Fraiser's eyes were red-rimmed from her tears, even Colonel Reynolds of SG-3's eyes appeared glassy.

"As you all know, four very valued...very beloved...members of this command were killed in a tragic incident on RA1-786. Confirmed dead are...Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson, and Dr. Madison Garman. The Raahe government has promised an investigation on their end although they report that most likely this was the work of _terrorists_." Hammond's voice stuck and he nearly spat the word terrorists. Like most upstanding members of the military, the General loathed terrorism and those that practiced it in the name of a _cause._ He could understand war, he even understood the losses...both military and civilian...that war produced. But war, declared and fought in the open, was honorable. Wars could and had been fought for wrong reasons, but at least everyone involved knew it was a war.

"Maybe it's my refusal to accept the truth," Hammond continued, "but I've sought and received permission to delay the paperwork and proceedings until we have an _official_ verdict from the government of Raahe." The General turned to the SGC's petite CMO, "This is no reflection on the work of you or your staff."

Janet Fraiser managed a watery smile in the General's direction, "Believe me, sir, I and my staff would be delighted to find this was a ruse...and...we have seen so much since the beginning of the Stargate program...that cannot be ruled out. However, we have to report on the facts and evidence we have before us. The remains Dr. Beverly, our ME, autopsied were Col. Jack O'Neill, Maj. Samantha Carter, and Doctors Madison Garman and Daniel Jackson. DNA and some dental remains were positively identified."

"Sir," Mark Reynolds spoke up, "SG-3 and I would be glad to go back to 786 and keep an eye on the investigation." Reynolds, along with the majority of the SGC, held all members of SG-1 in high regard. Loss of any of that team was a blow to morale as when things were at their darkest, SG-1 always managed to pull the miracle save out of their hat. Reynolds had no doubt that it was the unique mix of personalities that made up that team that gave them the ability to achieve so much.

Hammond rose to his feet, "Thank you, Mark. Thank all of you." He turned solemn blue eyes on the last remaining members of SG-1, "Teal'c, you and Capt. Mitchell take some time. I will review future assignments with you at a later date. We are planning a private memorial service here on the base as a formality and a way to give closure to alot of people. This does not signify and end to the matter."

Teal'c also rose to his feet and inclined his head to Hammond, a show of his immense respect for the man. "Thank-you, General Hammond, I will be in attendance." What the Jaffa did not say was that he was considering retiring from the SGC and returning to his people to continue the fight. It was not what O'Neill would have wanted, but Teal'c was torn and not sure that he had the heart to continue the battle from within the confines of the SGC where so many memories of his friends would haunt him.

Cameron Mitchell rose to his feet as the others did, pausing to give Hammond a nod of respect before turning away. The tragedy and loss were hitting home now. Until Janet made her report, he had kept hope alive. Hope that it was some sort of cruel alien trick and they would be mounting a search and rescue mission for their friends and teammates. But that was not to be. In a career fraught with loss...this was the most difficult one of all.

* * *

**3 Days Earlier, Aleria, The Forum**

Colonel Jack O'Neill entered the vast complex of buildings that his local Raahe guide called The Forum. The stargate was located in a massive courtyard at its center reached by passing through pagodas held up by elaborate columns. All around were paved walkways with little zen-like areas containing open air and semi-sheltered alcoves with benches, statuary, and fountains. The walk from the stargate to any of the government buildings was meant to be an enlightening and relaxing experience.

His guide continued past the Stargate Courtyard and on to one of the smaller buildings set aside for visitors to RA1-786. This one had been outfitted as quarters for the Earth visitors complete with a living area and separate sleeping and hygiene chambers. The far side of the living area faced one of the many little courtyards with its eternal cheerfully bubbling fountain.

Daniel was already there which surprised Jack a little. Usually the archaeologist was the last to arrive always touting the amazing _whatever_ he had discovered on World ZZZ-XXX. He was writing in the journal that he always carried with him for recording his thoughts and observations. Jack had once asked why he did not use the rugged laptop that the scientific members of each team carried and Daniel had answered that writing helped solidify and clarify his observations whereas typing them into a laptop program distracted him because of the need to think about operating the machine. Jack understood. Computers did much the same thing to him.

O'Neill lay his P-90 on the sparkling clean glass and chrome center table and took the seat beside it, "Thoughts, observations, letters, hate mail?" Jack asked his friend.

Jackson held up his hand, continued writing for a few moments, then closed and stowed the journal in his backpack that rested by his feet. "My tour was interesting, illuminating, and so...disquieting." The younger man held up his hand, "Jack, I know what you're going to say...you're going to quote our charter and mandate to me..."

The Colonel stopped in middle of what he was about to say with raised eyebrows, "Actually, for your information, Dr. I-Know-What-You're-Gonna-Say-Before-You-Say-It...I was going to ask if you were given the Raahe is perfect tour or the real one?"

"You know...I really wish you wouldn't do that," Daniel was staring at Jack with an unreadable expression.

"Do what?" O'Neill asked innocently.

"Suddenly go all moral and non-military," was the acerbic reply.

"I didn't," Jack responded.

"Did," Daniel shot back.

"Stop!" Dr. Madison Garman stood just inside the room with Maj. Carter beside her. Carter's face held an expression crossed between resignation and amusement. Garman, on the other hand, after two days spent in the company of SG-1 was about at her wit's end with its two senior human male members and their snippy interactions. "I swear to God you two were married in a past life."

"Then it was a relationship that ended badly," O'Neill quipped not at all nonplussed by Garman's comment.

"It was that have to sleep with the window open thing even in twenty degree temperatures that ended it. I'm sure weapons were involved," Daniel responded mildly.

Carter choked and turned away, her shoulders shaking with laughter. The newest member of SGC's medical team did not mince her words. She was definitely not intimidated by the Colonel's rank or SG-1's legendary status. That was not to say she had not shown each member of the team respect and consideration because she had. Carter moved over to take a seat on the small sofa near Daniel while Madison headed for the small kitchen like area and scored a glass of cold water.

Madison Garman had been assured by that nice, attractive USAF major from the Pentagon, that accepting their offer would lend an entirely new level to the _Doctor's Without Borders_ program. Paul Davis had told her that she would never get another chance like the one he was offering. He had lured her with the carrot of medical advancement and unparalleled opportunities for research and making a difference. When she returned to Earth, Madison intended to have a long talk with the nice Major Paul Davis. Turning, Madison headed toward the tiny kitchenette area. From there, she could observe the members of SG-1 while letting her thoughts on the mission coalesce into a coherent report. Madison's mind, however, had its own plans and its attention turned to the members of the team, each one a certifiable hero and legend even if it could not be publicly acknowledged on their home world.

Dr. Daniel Jackson, PhD...frighteningly brilliant and passionate about his work. Good looking in that somber, quiet manner that made women want to dig past the outer facade and find out what lurked underneath. At least Madison would not mind being one of those women and from the looks of Carter as she unconsciously leaned toward her teammate, she was not the only one.

Major Samantha Carter...also scary intelligent, yet beautiful and total fun on a girls' night out as Madison had learned when invited to accompany the major and Dr. Fraiser for a night out on the town. How Sam managed to remain so totally feminine and so totally military escaped Madison, but she admired the woman's courage and dedication to her science and the USAF.

_Colonel _Jack O'Neill...the epitome of the irreverent, annoying, devil-may-care, military hotshot. Not that he was not physically an attractive man...that went without saying, and not that he did not have the right to act the hotshot. There was that whole save the world, the solar system, and the galaxy thing. Yet his constant snipping at the scientists and their science, digs at the doctor and her work, and constant bickering with Jackson had taken its toll on her patience. But there had to be something more to the man than his apparently shallow take on life and that _what, dumb little ole me_ act. Please! The woman in Madison would like to find out what made him tick almost as much as it wanted to find out what lurked behind Jackson's wide blue eyes.

Neither of the other two teammates had arrived yet. Teal'c...alarmingly large. Madison's inner self giggled. His devotion to the Jaffa cause and the odd mix of compassion and warrior made her feel safe in his presence. Not to mention, from a medical standpoint, the big warrior's physiology was totally fascinating. Last, but certainly not least, Captain Cameron Mitchell...good looking and aware of it but in a fun-loving boy-next-door manner that was more attractive than it was off putting. Mitchell was the sort of man you took home to mama which made him the man to stay away from.

Individually, each member of SG-1 was an intriguing combination of personality traits, skill, intelligence and backgrounds. As a team...they were a formidable unit and one Madison was enjoying seeing in action. Her musings were interrupted as O'Neill rose to his feet and nodded to the two scientists and in her direction, "Let's take it outside. I want to talk and don't want to do it in here."

Moments later they had moved out to the huge, busy courtyard surrounding the stargate. There was no one near them and a radio check with Teal'c and Mitchell said the other two would be a few more minutes as their transport was running slow. O'Neill clicked off the radio with an order for them to get there as soon as possible. Looking at the other three, he shrugged, "Traffic...You'd think a civilization this advanced could just beam you up..." O'Neill shrugged, "oh well...lets share while we wait."

Daniel ignored Jack's sarcasm and took point with his thoughts, "Well...they were upfront with us about this being a dictatorial police state and their caste system. I can't say I saw anything on the tour of the Taino levels of the city that were openly horrific, but there was an overall..._feeling_ of something not right. It would take more digging and being allowed to talk to more of the Taino than the one or two shift foreman types that were, of course, going to say nothing that would go back to the Exalted." Jackson wrinkled his nose at the title of Raahe's dictator.

Jack's eyes rolled, "Oh...and I can so take that to the General, Daniel. We shouldn't continue relations with the Raahe because it _feels_ wrong."

"You asked, I answered, Jack," Daniel snapped back. "Unless we're given leave to wander this _paradise_ unescorted, we're not going to see what's beneath the surface utopia. But trust me, utopias almost always have a dark side."

"Right," Jack's tone was scoffing. "Carter...got anything more concrete than _feelings_?"

"Sir, I have to agree with Daniel," Sam stated in her _I'm going to disagree with you but am still respectful_ tone. "We were shown some of the mine workings at the surface, the inner city service areas, and various residential areas. We were told by all about how the Exalted and the caste system had saved Raahe from self-destruction. Their technology is impressive. Their mining operations were the cleanest I've ever seen. We would gain alot by allying with them...but what exactly is _their_ gain in allying with us? It doesn't track, sir."

"And what about you, Doc? I'm sure you have an opinion...you have on everything so far so don't be shy," Jack said, turning his dark eyes to the tall, blue-eyed brunette.

Deciding to disregard the jibe for now, Madison slipped into her _I'm talking to a first year resident_ manner and tone, "The state hospital was a marvel of _future_ technology. All the doctors were encouraged to participate in research and development. Medical care appeared to be granted unilaterally despite income or caste. In short it was all perfect." She paused and frowned, "But I think...could not swear mind you...but I think one of the areas I was rushed past was a set-up for Euthanasia. I only got a fleeting glance through an observation window...but it..." Madison stopped and shook her head.

"Euthanasia?" Jack questioned, "As in what happens to Rover when he's past his prime?"

Madison waved her hand, "As in...do you see any ill, infirm, handicapped, or significantly aged persons wandering this plaza, Colonel?"

O'Neill remained silent as he gazed at Raahe's stargate and at the people buzzing around the massive courtyard intent on their own lives. The three opinions he had just received actually mirrored his own. During the initial overview of the Waros (military caste) facilities, everyone had been gracious and pleasant, seeming to give information freely and without concern for retribution. Their initial meeting with the Exalted had been equally pleasant with the ruler appearing to be forthright, upstanding, and all about the well-being of his world and its population. They had admitted to a low-level of crime amongst all three castes, stated there were times of high unemployment, housing shortages...all the things the people of Earth should and could relate to. O'Neill's tour had then split of with Teal'c and Mitchell going with another guide to see the Air and Space force facilities while Jack was shown the basic military structure and their police units.

Tapping his radio's transmit button, O'Neill made a decision. He had disregarded similar opinions once before...along with his own gut feelings...and had been horribly wrong. It had cost him the life of a friend that had only been restored by what amounted to a miracle. "Teal'c, Mitchell, hustle your taxi driver. We're heading out of here...I want some time to let all this percolate a bit before rushing into negotiations with Mussolini and his Merry Men."

"Acknowledged, O'Neill," Teal'c's voice sounded via the radio, "Mitchell is hassling our guide as we speak."

"Yeah...uh...just don't do anything that'll get us in trouble. O'Neill out." Jack was turning to the rest of the team when the sounds of a disturbance got his attention.

Being marched across the plaza was a large contingent of men, women, and a few teen-aged Raahe. They all wore jumpsuits of a plain, drab gray with fluorescent stripes down the sleeves and legs and each was manacled hand and foot to a metal waist band that in turn had a chain run through a loop of the person in front. The group of prisoners were silent except for the rattle of their chains. The commotion came from the armed military escort who admonished the prisoners to move faster before halting them by the dialing device. The stargate blossomed into life and the prisoners were escorted to the wormhole and disappeared beyond the event horizon.

Unnoticed due to the commotion, a man circuitously approached SG-1. He wore a standard worker's jumpsuit with Taino caste badge depicting a sledge hammer and ax. Using the disturbance caused by the transfer of the prisoners, the man increased his pace and was within hailing distance when a voice commanded, "Taino, halt! State Police."

The man and SG-1 all turned to face the five members of the Military State Police at the same time. The Taino man turned back toward SG-1, "You must have seen the truth..."

Before he could finish his sentence, all five of the guard unit opened fire with their small, deadly projectile weapons. They were based on rail-gun technology but so small and refined they made the weapons that graced the SGC's warships seem antiquated. Four of the guard approached SG-1 who had all raised weapons and taken defensive postures, moving Madison to the center of the team for safekeeping. As Jack prepared to simply state they were going home, the Raahe thumbed a switch on their weapons and pressed the firing switches. A clear, odorless gas shot out, stinging the eyes and dropping SG-1 in their tracks.

By now the plaza had been cleared of all onlookers as even more military filed into the great square. Seconds later, several explosions sounded in the direction of the visitors' area of The Forum. Debris rained down, including what appeared to be pieces of human remains.

Within fifteen minutes there was no sign of SG-1 and a tall, gray haired commander tapped his communicator, "Exalted, I am sorry to have to report a tragic incident...There's been a terrorist bombing at the Forum. Four members of the off world team are dead..."


	2. Long Live SG1

**Aleria, Echelon Residential Section **

Night had fallen on the city of Aleria. A warm breeze blew gently through the open archway which led to a balcony overlooking the city. The city glowed with soft warm lights, while stars twinkled overhead. It was a relatively peaceful evening, but many had learned the hard way that the peace could be disturbed within seconds. It was the sort of evening to be enjoyed, and a pity to be spent at a boring dinner.

Machelle turned from the balcony with her glass of wine and returned to the bedroom she shared with her husband. Dinner with her parents was a necessary affair, and her shoulders still bore the tension of the evening. For just the briefest of moments she was struck by the oddity of sitting down to dinner with her parents in a well appointed restaurant, rather than around an old table in a cozy, well lived-in home. The thought was so fleeting that it was gone as soon as it occurred and she shook her head to clear it, thinking it must be the wine.

"It wasn't that bad," she said, speaking loudly enough that her husband could hear her. "I think they're beginning to mellow with age. My father didn't insult you even once." She bent to pull off her heeled shoes, one hand balanced against the bed. Most of the dinner conversation was pleasant, suitably polite. As if they were sitting down with strangers, and not her family. At least, that was until the conversation turned as it normally did toward grandchildren and the lack thereof. Machelle sighed softly at the melancholy wave of emotions that washed over her. Despair threatened and she gave it a violent shove. Those were not thoughts she wished to entertain on an evening that still had the potential of being saved.

"No, I take it back," she said as she dropped her heels beside the bed. "It was as awful as always." She lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "At least we only have to do it once every cycle."

Owynne padded out of the adjoining bathroom and over to the built-in wardrobe to hang up his uniform. He tried, he really really tried, to get along with Machelle's parents. It was, however, like trying to get along with the stinging gnats that swarmed the lakes on the planet's surface during spring. Jerard hated hurting her, but he was going to have to find ways to avoid the obligatory monthly dinner. At least tonight they had refrained from opening up that old line of conversation...the one that insisted that Jerard and Machelle should have put the death of their son behind them and move on.

"A family should see one another," Jerard stated to his wife although he figured her parents were mostly using it for a show of how perfect their little universe was. "I need a drink...you?"

Machelle lifted her wine glass and drained it before slanting a look at him. "Absolutely." Rising, she placed the empty glass on a table and made her way into the bathroom. "That's what you say every time we have dinner with them, you're not convincing me anymore than you're convincing yourself, Jerard."

She pulled her hair from where it was wrapped and clasped and let it fall in soft waves around her shoulders. The jewelry clasped at her ears and wrist was removed and placed in the porcelain dish on the vanity surface. Her dress was removed and placed with the clothing to be cleaned. Machelle was still tying a robe around herself when she rejoined him a moment later. "Next cycle ,we simply won't go," she told him, as she told him every cycle previously.

"And yet...we do," Jerard responded, pouring out two generous portions of a strong, golden liquor. He softened hers with a splash of water and a couple of ice cubes. He sighed as he took a long drink. "I've been put back on counter-terrorism. They want me investigating the bombing at the Forum."

Any sparkle her eyes might have retained was suddenly extinguished. "You've paid your dues to counter-terrorism, more than paid it I would say." With a turn, she walked back to the open archway, the beauty of the city suddenly dulled. Ice in her glass tinkled as she lifted it to her lips, drinking deeply. The bite of the liquor barely burned it's way down her throat. "Why?"

"Why?" Jerard looked over at his wife, "Because the Exalted wills it, that's why. He wants to assure the Earthers that his most decorated commander is on the job."

Owynne fell silent. He had been in counter-terrorism five years ago...and getting close to breaking one of the resistance's top cells. Then, the day after arresting several key leaders, he had taken Calyb, their son, to school...just like he did almost every day. He had returned to his transport when all hell had broken loose. Two explosions in quick succession rocked the school. When he opened his eyes, it was to see his son's shredded, barely recognizable corpse lying less than ten feet away. Jerard's life had changed from that point forward and so had his tactics when handling suspected terrorists. Shortly after that he had been transferred to the state police unit, promoted to Commander, and taken off the street.

"Yes of course," Machelle said, unable to keep all of the bitterness out of her tone. "Who are we to question the will of the Exalted. When does it _end_? The Resistance loses more ground than it gains. When will the killing and the maiming finally stop?" She leaned back against the arch and closed her eyes. As a doctor she saw more than she would like. The victims of this _terrorism_ were given faces she couldn't often forget. Even on that day five years ago, she had been treating the mangled bodies of children, working so hard to save lives before she even knew the school attacked had been Calyb's, or that she would never see her baby's bright-eyed smile again.

"It ends when every one of those bastards are apprehended and disposed of...and maybe I'm just the man for that job...now." Jerard walked over to stand beside Machelle. Dark eyes gazed out over the city before turning to look at his wife. "I have the chance to finally get justice for Calyb."

"Then see that you do," she began softly, "and be careful." She laid her hand against the curve of his jaw. "You'll be more a target this time than you were before. I won't lose you, Jerard. You're all the real family that I have."

"I'll be better than careful," he told her. Taking her hand, he turned it and grazed her palm with his lips before pulling her into his arms for a long, slow kiss. "I love you, 'Chel. And more than that, I need you...like now..." Jerard's expression told her exactly what he meant.

"You can have me, Jer. You are my heart, always." Her arms slipped around him when he lifted her to carry her back into the room.

* * *

**Aleria, Lower City, Candle Residential Section **

Darius stretched and laughed before catching Sabyl's shoulders and pulling her to rest along his length amongst the rumpled bed clothes. "Woman...you've got to give me a breather. I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Nonsense." She stretched out alongside him with a grin. "You were the one who wanted to spend all day in bed," she reminded him teasingly.

"Yes and a wonderful day it's been too...but now I need sustenance or play time is over," Darius rolled to his feet with no concern for his state of undress. "C'mon, feed me before I perish...a victim of love."

"You expect me to feed you?" She laughed. "First he deprives me, and then he orders me to the kitchen. Oh what a lover," she purred, eyes glinting with impish delight. Sabyl rolled from the bed and snagged one of Darius's shirts to pull over her nakedness. "I think I may have put something aside with you in mind."

Making his way through the surprisingly spacious, two bedroom residence, Darius headed for the kitchen. Leaning into the refrigeration unit, he prowled through several boxes and containers, "I think I'm doomed to starve to death."

"Oh move aside," Sabyl nudged him out of her way with her hip and gave his bottom a playful swat. "Why don't you find us something to drink. I'll see to it that you don't _starve_."

"Drinks...I can do that." Darius snagged a couple of cold bottles of a popular beverage. Grabbing two glasses, he poured the soda up and handed one glass to Sabyl. "Uh...clothes...I need clothes." He turned with the intention of heading back to the bedroom.

"Don't get dressed on my account," She winked at him. Sabyl closed the refrigeration unit and went to the pantry, where she returned with the makings for a quick meal of noodles and a fragrant red sauce. She pulled out vegetables and began chopping and sauteeing before adding the sauce.

"Oh, dearest one, I would oblige, but it's cold in here," Darius said with a chuckle. He headed for their room, returning shortly clad in a pair of loose, soft trousers. Sidling up behind Sabyl, Darius began running light kisses up and down the back of her neck. "Have I told you how wonderful you are lately? How beautiful, exquisite, perfect and ... great in bed?"

"Mmm." She hummed in appreciation. "Yes, just about ten minutes ago, but don't let that stop you." She angled her head and kissed him. "Darius, my love, if you want me to feed you, you're going to have to stop that."

"How can I stop when every move you make calls for me to take you back to our bed," Darius sniffed appreciatively as the odor of heating oil and spices filtered up to him, "however, just this once, maybe I can work on getting a bowl of greens together..."

After completing a green salad to have with their modest meal, Darius grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and walked to the window and leaned against the wall. Leaving the curtains partially drawn to hide him from the the outside, he gazed at the outside world. A frown knitted his brows as he noted a man cross the street, pause beside three more men and then gesture toward their home.

As Taino, their living area was dictated entirely by their worker status, number of child credits, and the state. More than fifteen years in the Harconn Mines meant Darius was eligible for a modest, city street level, semi-detached residence. It had two bedrooms, each with its own hygiene chamber and a large, open kitchen / living room plan. Security concerned Darius at times as the front of the home opened onto the street and consisted mainly of the large picture window and a door that would not stand up to much stress. Likewise, the door at the back, just beyond a small room that served for the residence's utilities and laundry, was equally flimsy. The plus side was that they lived free of charge. The state provided the home and a reasonable amount of utilities. If they exceeded the allowed usage, they had to do without until the next cycle or dip into their credits.

Darius rubbed the back of his left hand where the _credit chip_ was embedded. He suspected it was also a means of identifying and tracking the Taino as the Waros and Realta carried portable credit cards instead of implants.

Returning his attention to the men outside, Darius took another sip of his beer. While many of the miners that were at his level of service lived in the area, he did not recognize any of the men outside. That did not necessarily mean they were not of the neighborhood, but in the Taino world, it paid to notice these things. Crime was low as being arrested was a brutal experience and due process was unheard of. If arrested, you would likely be charged. Once charged, you were guilty and your eventual fate was to be sent to Mordos via the stargate to serve a specified term that no one ever returned from, or you would be publicly executed. The crime dictated the method and some of them were brutal.

The men dispersed and Darius idly took note of their direction. A frown continued to knit his brows as his mind returned to the one ever-present personal issue between him and Sabyl. Compared to most, he considered his life with her idyllic. She was intelligent, well-placed in the community, and considered invaluable in City Services. On a more personal level, she loved him with a devotion that sometimes frightened him while he was always grateful for her love. Despite that, it was a heavy burden to carry, being considered perfect and able to do no wrong...and having to live up to that image. Darius freely admitted it made him a better man as disappointing Sabyl was not something he could conceive doing purposely.

This led to the ever-present _issue_...the child credit. When they first met, he and Sabyl had been at the lowest level of their job allotments. Each had been issued a single child credit at birth. This did not translate to having two child credits upon marrying. The state simply removed one credit leaving the couple with a single child credit. In the early years, Darius and Sabyl had stated they wanted to be more stable before using their child credit. As time wore on and the Exalted's reign tightened the noose on the Taino while giving the Waros more and more power, Darius had started questioning bringing a child into the world period.

Their discussions on having a child never led to outright fights, but Darius sensed Sabyl's sorrow and disappointment at his reluctance to commit. Recently, Sabyl had stopped bringing up the subject when it came time to renew her birth control implant. Darius did not know if this was in response to his continued reluctance or to a new awareness of the deterioration of the society around them. In the past, neither of the Jaggers were supporters of the Taino Resistance Movement or TRM as they were commonly known. Since the advent of the new Exalted, the TRM had turned more and more to terrorist tactics to get their message out and try to enact change. There was actually, per the gossip Darius heard around work, a schism within the TRM between those that advocated rapid, violent change and those that looked toward a longer-term, more passive type of resistance to promote change. In recent months, Darius was finding a new sympathy for the TRM, yet another reason to take a long, hard look at bringing a child into the world.

As Darius moved out of the kitchen, the room grew silent. Sabyl added sauce to the pan and continued to stir while the pasta cooked. Every few minutes she would glance over at her husband to find him lost in his own thoughts. That seemed to happen a lot lately. She would find him staring at seemingly nothing. It was as though at those times she was alone in the house. She left the sauce to simmer and leaned against the counter, sipping her soda while she watched him. Wherever his mind went during those times, she wished he could share with her what occupied him so.

They were happy, but their marriage was not without it's low points. No relationship was perfect and she did not expect theirs to be. It made life interesting. She loved him. It was unlike any feeling she experienced before. There was nothing she wouldn't do, she was devoted to him in ways that sometimes frightened even her, but he was a good man and she knew that she was loved.

Her attention was drawn back to their dinner and she began setting the small table in the dining nook between the kitchen and living room. She left him to his thoughts for a few minutes more while she brought their dinner and fresh beer for both to the table. Only then did she close the small space between them and lay a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention. "Darius."

Darius looked over at his elegant, beautiful wife, waves of love washing over him and his expression immediately softened. Pulling her close against him, he sighed into her ear, "I love you so very much. My life is nothing without you in it."

* * *

**Aleria, Upper City, The Pinnacle (The Exalted's palace)**

The Pinnacle was a haven of luxury. The Exalted's palace was a retreat from the harsh realities of life where Raneer K'arr could insulate himself from retribution by the masses. In truth, Raneer rarely left the palace complex even to attend public appearances. Instead, he had a carefully designed clone that could be brought from stasis, programmed via the Memron device and sent in Raneer's place. Upon its return to the palace, it would have the experiences of the evening downloaded and stored for future need.

Raneer stepped out on his balcony and looked over the vista of Aleria. It was a clear day and in the distance, far below, he could see the planet's rugged surface and the mountains beyond. Sipping his tea, he ruminated on his plans for the future and smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

Some form of memory collection and stamping technology had been in use for the last one hundred years. It was only when Raneer came to power that research and development began for using the technology to eternally preserve _life._ Originally, it had been used for non-invasive interrogations of criminals or for helping witnesses recall the events of a crime clearly. Raneer saw its potential for immortality.

The Memron Corporation had profited by the Exalted's interest in their technology. With nearly unlimited funding and resources, the uses for the device had blossomed. It was now able to replace entire lives via its memory stamp feature. This led to new procedures in criminal processing. The guilty, or even not quite guilty, were brought in and their lives downloaded to the Memron. Once the prisoner was terminated or sent to Mordros, which was the same as a death sentence, their entire persona could be uploaded to a new individual along with programming to make them the ultimate spy for the state.

The downside was, for several months, a person that had been _stamped_ had to be routinely _updated_ to keep their original personalities suppressed. Eventually, it reached a point where the suppression technology prevailed and the original personality was basically replaced with the memories, knowledge, and lives of the download. It was a complicated process that required matching of new personalities to the old core personalities so that the implantation worked. In early trials, placing a totally polar opposite personality onto a subject resulted in severe mental and behavior disorders. They had since learned that the core values and morality of an individual could not be overwritten.

The Exalted smiled darkly. Enter the off worlders...SG-1. Their arrival set the stage for a massive, overreaching plan that would rid the world of the Taino once and for all. It had taken Memron massive amounts of time and work to set everything up. They had to find a way to blend their subjects back into society with no questions asked. It had required pulling a huge number of people in for memory alteration therapy and developing a delivery method for a mind control drug. The drug was a derivative of the tanin gas that was secreted as a by-product of the mineral extraction in the mines. It could be delivered via skin-to-skin contact and given off one person to another attached to pheromones. All the carrier had to do was be in contact with the subject and introduce themselves along with an implanted suggestion of how they related to the subject. It was not foolproof and state agents watched all four of the off worlders closely. If any of the people around them appeared to not accept them, they would find themselves a guest of the military. Other roles were filled by professional agents...such as Owynne's in-laws.

So far, it had all come together. Certain people amongst the highest echelon of the Waros had been memory altered to accept Commander Owynne's return to duty in the form of Col. Jack O'Neill of SG-1. The doctor had easily been programmable to carry the personality of Owynne's late wife who had been killed along with the commander's only son in a terrorist bombing. The original Owynne had become too conscientious about how things were being done, despite his hatred of the Taino terrorists, and had to be eliminated. The stamps had been equally successful on Daniel Jackson and Major Carter. With the four in pairs, they could be easily extracted for their stamps reinforcement.

The last obstacle had been _killing _them in such a way that Stargate Command would accept allowing Raahe to run the investigation. Getting fully adult, blank cloned bodies grown in time was out of the question. Therefore, they settled on partials and _remains_ that could be explained by the type of explosions they were killed in. To date, that had worked as well.

The plan was in place, the players on the field. The off worlders carried personas that as the story developed would lend to a natural enmity. Darius Jagger would be driven into the resistance and thus pitted against Owynne. Ultimately, Owynne would bring down Jagger and the resistance. Before that, however, the resistance needed to be seen as responsible for some heinous deeds and attacks. The first of those was murdering Raahe's peaceful, off world visitors. By the time the plan was complete, the Waros would destroy all the Taino to clean out the taint of resistance and Raahe could be reclaimed for its true people...its true heritage...and Raneer would reign for eternity.


	3. Live a Little Lie

**Aleria, The Forum, Counter-Terrorism Unit **

Commander Jerard Owynne spared barely a glance at the blackened visitor's area of the Forum as he strode across the courtyard and through a maze of passageways to the check point for descending to the sub-levels where the private chapters of the military and state police worked.

Today he wore the plain black uniform tunic, shirt, and trousers rather than the more striking black and silver formal uniform he had donned two days previous for his appointment with the Exalted. Returning to the Counter Terrorism unit felt a little like going home. While his obsession with apprehending the half-seen man he deemed responsible for his son's murder had nearly driven him mad and resulted in his reassignment to a _quieter_ unit, he had never quite quit hoping for a return to his old unit. Respectful nods and the standard chest-high salutes followed him through the complex. Jerard was now several levels below the city far from the city's light and noise.

Turning one last corner, he came face to face with his old office. All of his things had been shipped from his old office, unpacked, and arranged per his orders. A stack of files lay on the desk and the computer network interface was set up. Along with that was an old fashioned keyboard as Jerard had requested. He loathed the neural interface.

A quick tap on the keyboard and the heads-up display appeared above the computer cube that sat unobtrusively to the left side of the desk. His first request was for a listing of likely suspects for the Forum bombing. Due to the nature of the crime and the touchy diplomatic situation, Jerard had been ordered to only communicate with Earth via a diplomatic liaison. He had never met the off worlders so studying their pictures meant nothing to him...except...the big black man with the tattoo. He struck a chord within the wily old commander that he could not explain. After a few more moments of reading over the file on the off worlders, he turned his attention to the now complete list of likely perpetrators.

The fifth file in sharpened Jerard's attention. His lips thinned as he stared at the blue-eyed man pictured in the file. Arctic blue eyes sparkled with an uncanny intelligence. The man's features were even, handsome, the expression somber and stern yet hinting at an unspoken defiance. There was also something familiar about the man. Something that pulled at Jerard's memory. He had a feeling they had met before. Smiling grimly, Owynne decided that if they had not encountered one another previously. They would...very soon.

* * *

**Aleria, Upper-Center City, State Hospital **

The Aleria Medical Complex was just as it sounded. A complex of several facilities ranging from Scientific Research to the most basic of Medical care for all of Aleria's citizens. Even the Taino were provided care as it was needed, and provided that they could afford it. The large State run facility had many levels, and despite advancements and technology there were levels on which some of the most basic ailments were treated. Others were devoted to advancements in medical research while there was one which was not quite so benign.

It was believed that when an individual reached a certain age, the mind became infirm. For other individuals, there were injuries which removed a quality of life. All of these were taken care of swiftly and without pause. Quality over quantity, this had become a standard practice among the medical community, adopted when The Exalted took his place as leader of Raahe.

Machelle Owynne walked along the fifth floor corridor, carrying with her a patient chart. At the nurses station she stopped and placed the data card back in chart storage. "Mr. Ball'ard isn't improving," she told the nurse. "Have his family contacted, they're going to want to say goodbye." Ball'ard had been too near the visitor's plaza when the explosion took place. Unfortunately for him, and his family, his injuries were very severe. While he was treated, he was brought to the fifth floor. Many patients were brought to the fifth floor, very few ever left. The man was never going to walk again, and it was quite likely that he would never have the mental capacity that he retained prior to the explosion. For this reason it was thought better, and much kinder, to simply end his suffering.

Machelle often wished that all suffering could be so easily wiped away. As she turned, she paused. There was a sense of wrongness that swept over her, but it was easily pushed aside. "Contact my assistant," she told the nurse. "Tell her to relay a message to my husband. It doesn't look like I'll be meeting him for lunch." She slipped her hands into the pockets of her crimson colored overcoat and strode away from the desk. Mr. Ball'ard was not the only patient on whom she needed to round, and with which a _final_ decision need be made.

* * *

**Raahe, West Continent Surface, Harconn Mine **

Darius raced from his residence already missing the warmth of his home and Sabyl's gentle presence. One block from his home, he descended to the rapid transit station and boarded the mag-lev. Fifteen minutes later he was stepping out onto the platform at Aleria's city to surface transit station just as the transport for Harconn touched down on the landing pad. Not spotting anyone he knew, Darius made his way to the rear of the transport and sat down. Five minutes later, the transport hummed silently into the sky and banked for the edge of the city and the surface far below.

Thirty minutes later, the transport began the descent toward the mine. Darius stared at the vast scar in the landscape, taking note of it but not seeing it. The Taino life's work was dictated by their birth guild. The only chance of changing was at age sixteen when the state aptitude tests were administered. If one

showed an aptitude for another form of labor, they were transferred to that guild, apprenticed, trained and their life's course set. From that point on, they could change jobs within the guild but could never change guilds again. In a case where a married couple were from two guilds...very much frowned upon...the offspring would take whichever parents' guild they tested highest for.

The transport set down on the landing pad at the rim of the mine. Darius exited with his co-workers and stepped into the waiting mine car. Another hover craft that would take them into the belly of the great mine. Many hundreds of feet below the surface, Darius once again exited and turned right making his way along an industrial walkway to a large locker room. It only took him a few moments to stow his gear and pull out the safety helmet, check it for damage, grab his shift tablet and exit to head even further into the mine. Stopping just outside his office, he waved the back of his left hand over a sensor embedded in the wall. It both recorded his time in and opened the locked door for him. As it swished open, Darius stepped inside and dropped into his desk chair. He would look over previous shift reports for their output so he could calculate what his crew had to accomplish, check for trouble reports, and then join his crew.

The _shift tablet_ was a small card that Darius plugged into the computer cube on his desk. Immediately the heads-up display appeared with a menu of options. Slipping his right hand into the neural net controller, he began scanning all of the reports. Frowning, he entered his computations for his crew's work and cursed. The previous shift foreman was a lout and totally lazy. As a result of his laxity, his shift rarely made their quota leaving subsequent shifts to pull up the slack. Fortunately, Darius' crew rarely ran after Macedin's. Ten minutes later, Darius arrived at his crew's ready room, plugged his tablet into the central computer and watched as the display lit up.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as usual, we have to get double the work done to meet quota," Darius announced to a round of groans. "I know...I know, but let's get to it or we'll not be seeing our homes tonight."

"It's good that some of us have more incentive for returning home than others," a man called from the back of the room causing Darius to lok up and laugh.

"If you treated Jama kinder, Micah, you would have equal incentive," Darius called back as his crew filtered out to start their day.

* * *

**Aleria, Lower City, Sub-Levels, City Maintenance and Services Center (The Hub)**

The very heart of the City Services Center was made up of a labyrinth of tunnels which ran beneath the surface of Aleria. The center of the labyrinth was the main hub which controlled the workings of the city. This hub kept the city afloat, it monitored waste output, water systems, and a number of other tasks which made life on the floating surface of Aleria so ideal. Each shift which manned the hub was responsible for drafting a report which was submitted to the Services manager, but copied to the incoming shift. This report detailed any problems or glitches in the systems throughout the shift and detailed all of the output of the computer systems which monitored the City Works.

Sabyl Jagger walked through the tunnels on autopilot as she read through the report submitted by the previous shift. City propulsion systems were showing a fourteen percent spike in power output. It could be as simple as a power surge, or as devastating as a program interruption. Regardless of its nature, the spike would need to be investigated and corrected, quickly. She walked into the Hub and allowed the tablet containing the report to drop onto a workstation. There were three people monitoring the Hub currently and they barely noticed as she entered. She walked to the station where propulsion was monitored and maintained and sat down. She connected through the neural interface and brought up the overhead display of the propulsion system. After scanning the system for a few minutes, she zoomed in onto the section where the spike originated. "Damn." Several key components were looking at near total degradation. It was going to require climbing into the system and replacing the components manually. The job was very dangerous and could take hours to complete.

With a sigh, Sabyl downloaded a schematic of the propulsion system to a tablet and rose again. She could send someone to complete the job, but it needed to be done correctly. "Korin, bring up the secondary propulsion systems. Begin booting the backups, we're going to have to take the right primary offline. I'm going to gather my gear, let me know when the system is ready."

"Why not send Gibbins, you can monitor the repair from here and bring the system back online yourself," Korin questioned.

"Because I want it done correctly," Sabyl tapped her shoulder with the tablet as she passed. "I'll be back."

"Yes, in about six hours and a lot smellier than you are right now." Korin shook her head and began preparing the system to go offline. Personally, she would send someone else. She supposed Sabyl was odd that way.

* * *

**Aleria, Upper-Center City, State Hospital **

Late afternoon cast its hues of deep orange and gold around the city as the Raahean sun dipped toward the horizon. Machelle Owynne paid little attention to the hour as she breezed through the Acute Care ward. Here workers within the city were brought if they became injured performing their jobs. Cubicles lined the walls, each fitted with a sterile cot and coverings, and a sheet to separate them from another patient. In an outer room, the ambulatory injured waited to be seen. Those unable to walk were taken into the Critical Care unit for a full trauma workup.

Her heels clicked against the sterile gray tile as she walked toward the waiting room. She didn't step inside, the room was filled with Taino. Instead, she pushed the door open and called a name. "Sabyl Jagger."

Sabyl rose with a grimace and followed the doctor. Reparing the propulsion system had gone well. It was while she was leaving the system that she miscalculated. She had taken a fall, and while she was not severely injured, she was sure her side would be quite vibrantly colored come morning. Despite that, it was required that she be checked over at the hospital, and because it was a work injury, the State would cover the exam. She supposed that was why she was now following Dr. Owynne.

The Taino who lived and worked within the city knew her. She was the wife of Commander Owynne. The man had made life nearly unbearable for her kind many years before when he searched for the suspect of a terrorist bombing. A bombing that had taken place at a school. Sabyl grimaced again, it didn't seem like her luck was getting any better as the day wore on.

"Have a seat." Machelle slid the worker's patient card into a computer and brought up her medical history. She studied it for a few minutes while she waited for the woman to arrange herself. "The triage nurse recorded that you took a fall. What sort of fall?"

"I was repairing the city propulsion system. I slipped as I was climbing out," she said, keeping her answer simple and to the facts. "I really think I'm fine, just a little sore."

"Well, I'll be the judge of that." Machelle slipped into a pair of gloves and turned. She regarded the woman's smudged and dirty coverall with some amount of disdain. "You can remove that." Once it was out of her way, she began her exam.

Darius stopped outside the main entrance of the hospital. Staring up at the sterile facade, he paused, having to take a deep breath before he could make himself enter. He had come straight from the mine when Korin called, not even stopping to verify his quotas for the day. Terror at the thought of losing Sabyl drove him to cut all sorts of travel corners. Now, he stared at the front of the building, hesitant to enter.

In his life, he had only entered the hospital a handful of times. At age seven when his father was euthanized after a tragic accident in the mines. Again at age twelve to say goodbye to his mother who had become ill with a cancer. As a Taino, the state would only pay to have her humanely put to sleep not for the more expensive treatments that might have saved her. His last trip had been two years ago when he was slightly injured and had to be treated. Fortunately, the injury was mild and he was still valuable enough to the system that treatment was taken care of.

Despite his dread, Darius made himself walk into the hospital's central processing area and request his wife. A cold, impersonal young woman looked him over, her lips pursing disdainfully at his appearance, before directing him the the Acute Care level. Stepping up to a administration station, Darius waited until he had the woman's attention. The woman gave him pretty much the same look as the front desk before tapping a key and requesting the attending physician for Sabyl Jagger to report to the admin station.

The Taino woman would be fine. Machelle was recommending a day of rest before returning to work when the summons was received. She bid the woman to dress before she strode toward the end of the ward and into the corridor beyond. It would take her to the admin station. She spotted the man as she approached, but her attention was on the woman at the desk. "I was paged?"

The Admin nodded toward the tall man waiting near the desk, "Taino Darius Jagger."

Machelle turned and inclined her head at him. She looked him over briefly and was struck by a sense of familiarity which she filed away. As a physician, she saw a lot of people. It was possible she had treated him in the past. "Are you here for Sabyl Jagger?"

Darius nodded absently while his mind struggled to put an identity to the tall, very striking dark haired doctor. Her exquisite features were enhanced by her slight air of disdain. In the end, he decided as he glanced at her name badge, that he probably only felt her knew her because of who she was married to. Few Taino did not know of Commander Jerard Owynne.

"Yes, ma'am," Darius responded politely, "I am her husband. Is she alright, may I see her?"

The doctor clasped her hands in front of her and nodded. "Yes. Your wife is going to be fine. She took a bit of a fall this afternoon, but there was no serious damage. I'm in the process of discharging her now. I'm going to recommend that she take a day of rest. She'll probably be very sore in the morning, and I'm sure she'll have some interesting bruises, but none of them are serious. If you would like, I can take you back to her now."

"Please," Darius nodded his affirmation. "Thank you for taking care of Sabyl." He managed not to say what losing her would do to him.

Owynne walked in from across the Admin area. His eyes narrowed as he saw Machelle talking to the tall Taino...the man on his list. All of his senses went on alert, but then reason set in. It was far more likely Jagger was there for medical reasons rather than with any plans for harming the Commander's wife. He leaned against a door jamb to watch as Machelle led the man down one of the corridors of cubicles.

Darius smiled and nodded as the doctor pointed to a cube. Stepping in, his smile widened in relief, "Sabyl, dear heart...what happened to you?"

Sabyl was dressed and waiting now to be told that she could leave. "Darius," a smile graced her lips. "What are you doing here?" A knowing look crossed her face. "I told Korin that I was fine. I slipped coming out of the propulsion system. I'm fine. There was no reason for you to be so worried."

Shaking his head, unable to speak as relief flooded over him, Darius very gently wrapped Sabyl in his arms, "Korin did exactly right to call me." Simply holding her and feeling her living, breathing form in his arms, calmed him considerably, "I have a few credits spare...we doubled our quota today...let me take you to dinner and then home."

Sabyl didn't genuinely feel like going anywhere except home to a hot bath, but she chuckled. "If it will make you feel better, then I would love to." She hugged him back, wincing only slightly at the soreness in her side.

Machelle shook her head at the pair. They were carrying on as though the Taino woman had been seriously injured. Many people received far worse injuries every day. Just that morning she euthanized a man whose life was so altered by his injuries that he would never walk again, that was not including the burns and brain trauma. "You may go," she told Sabyl. "Take a day of rest and return if you begin to feel worse." She turned away from then and strode quickly down the corridor to cross into the Admin section.

Owynne continued lurking next to the far doorway until Jagger and a woman walked past and headed down the far corridor. It was the one that would lead to a transit station. He had a file on the tall, leggy blond too. She was noted in detail due to her association with her husband. Her record, unlike Jagger's, was not tainted by terrorist associations. Still...from the look of the pair, there was perhaps a use for the woman...if needed. Pushing off the wall, he strode to where Machelle stood at a computer workstation. It looked as if she was logging her end notes for the day.

"What was he doing here?" Owynne said by way of greeting and nodding toward the fast disappearing Taino couple.

Machelle followed his gaze and looked back at him, curious. "He was picking up his wife. Some people do that when a family member is injured." Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "I realize that the concept of people caring for one another is foreign to you, but you are not unique, Jerard. There are actually other people in this world who have those for whom they care deeply." Smiling now, she inclined her head and presented her cheek for him. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd walk you home," Jerard stated, as usual not rising to her levity. "Let me know if either of them are in here again...would you? Jagger is a person..._of interest_."

"Jerard." She sighed in exasperation. "His wife was injured. There is nothing _interesting_ about that. This is why I don't like your job. Everyone you lay eyes on becomes a person of _interest_ if you don't like the look of them. I was really beginning to think that we were past all of that."

Owynne's expression hardened, "A Taino_ terrorist_ does not deserve medical care and trust me...Jagger's involved somehow. His older sister, the woman that practically raised him, was sent to Mordros along with her husband. She spoke at numerous rallies and was a vocal supporter of anarchy. Jagger works at Harconn...gives him easy access to explosive materials."

"Fine," she acquiesced. "If I see him or his wife again, I'll make sure that you know about it. Don't do this again, don't make me look over my shoulder every time I'm with a Taino patient, afraid I'm about to get stabbed in the back because of who you are to them." She finished entering her notes into the computer and logged out of the system.

"You could quit. We don't need the income," Jerard stated, his tone and expression mulish. His statement was true. As a favored commander, his income alone was outrageous. They could easily exist comfortably on it. "Or I can request you be transferred to one of the elite units where you don't have to be concerned with the Taino."

"Stop." She turned back to him, blue eyes flashing with irritation. "I'm your wife, _Commander_, I'm not a situation that needs to be handled. Removing me from the equation does not solve the problem. The Taino are necessary, unless you know of someone else who would like to go crawling through the bowels of the city fixing propulsion systems. That is exactly what Sabyl Jagger was doing when she was injured this afternoon. While their existance is unfortunate, the Taino do perform a service. If her husband is truly a person of interest, then by all means, pursue the investigation. Just keep in mind that what you do affects me too. Tread carefully Jerard, Darius Jagger could very well be a... a windmill." Where the expression came from, she couldn't say, but it seemed to fit.

Jerard huffed in annoyance. How could a trait of this woman be something he loved so much yet enraged him like nothing else could? Her stubbornness sometimes put even his strong will to shame. "Ready to go home?" He asked as it seemed a fitting time to change the subject.

"Well that depends," she smiled at him. "Are you going to stand there grumbling at me, or are you actually going to say hello like the occasionally charming man that I happen to adore?"

There was a long silence while Owynne debated his options. Finally, he stepped forward to give her a kiss on her cheek. "Ready to go home?" He asked again, his tone and expression far more affable than earlier.

With a laugh and a roll of her eyes she nodded. "Yes, dear." Machelle took his arm to walk with him toward the hospital exit. "One of these days, my darling, you're going to realize that I'm as stubborn as you are. I just happen to adore you in spite of it." She leaned into his side and her eyes sparkled up at him.


	4. Tell a Little Truth

**Chapter 4: Tell a Little Truth**

It was several days after Sabyl's accident and Darius was looking forward to getting home. He stepped off the transport and made his way toward the mag-lev hoping to reach his street before the shops all closed for the night. He hoped to find some flowers and a nice bottle of wine. His crew had once again doubled their quota and he had a nice pad of extra credits. If he was lucky, the shop with the blouse Sabyl had been admiring would still be open and he could get that for her as well. Her shifts had been hard for the last few days and he wanted to make their off shift days as pleasant as possible...perhaps even a trip to Ruby Park. His mind were on these possibilities when a deep voice boomed out his name and bade him halt. Darius stopped with a quizzical expression on his face as two men in night black uniforms approached.

"Taino Jagger, you will come with us," the bulkier and elder of the two men ordered.

Memories of two men dressed in the uniforms of the counter-terrorist unit knocking on their door and demanding Sharayne and Sevyn accompany them flashed through Darius' mind. Running, however, was not an option. Besides, he was not a runner. "May I contact my wife? She'll worry."

The younger man hesitated but his partner shook his head and moved in, "You'll be given an opportunity to contact from headquarters. Hands behind your back."

Darius had never been arrested. He had been questioned in-situ a couple of times back when his sister had been arrested, but never formally detained or charged. He knew the drill from the point of view of a bystander. Knowing the option was probably a beating, he turned and put his hands behind him, wincing as manacles were fastened on them and tightened painfully. "May I ask what this is about?" Again, he kept a polite tone as he knew the situation could get volatile quickly.

"You may not," the younger officer stated as he guided Darius into the waiting transport.

* * *

**Aleria, The Forum, Counter-Terrorism Unit **

Hours later, Darius prowled the tiny cell were he had been left to cool his heels. No one had approached him, no one had questioned him. He figured this tactic was designed to frighten him, put him on edge. In truth, it was only annoying him. His thoughts and pacing were interrupted by the door sliding back and two guards stepping in, "The Commander will speak with you now."

"How kind of the Commander," Darius replied sarcastically before he could stop himself. One of the men frowned, the other did not change expression, but prodded Darius roughly with the shock stick. As they reached the door of the interrogation chamber, one man pushed him roughly inside while the other pressed the shock stick in the small of his back and thumbed the lever.

The voltage was only enough to drop Darius to the floor where he lay still for a moment, gasping at the pain while his muscles sorted themselves back into working order. While his body tried to decide how to respond, the two men dragged him roughly to a straight-backed metal chair and dropped him into it. His arms were pulled roughly down to the sides and fastened to manacles that were part of the chair. As reason returned, Darius suspected his day was going to take an even worse turn.

Again, he was left alone for an undetermined length of time before the door opened and the Commander walked in followed by two unit officers. They moved around the single table to flank Darius while the Commander took the chair on the other side of the table. The tall, gray haired soldier's face was unreadable, his eyes dark and soulless. Owynne made a production of looking through the file he carried with him before finally looking across the short distance to Darius. "You will answer my questions. If I determine you are being less than cooperative, it will be a very long time before you get home to your wife. Are we clear?"

Darius raised his eyebrows, "Crystal."

"Tell me your contacts within the TRM," Owynne said, not really making it a question.

"TRM?" Darius felt sure his expression revealed how confused he was.

"I do not have patience for your games, Taino. A number of our people as well as our off world visitors were murdered by your friends...possibly you were involved, possibly you only know who was involved," Owynne rose to lean over the table threateningly, "Either way, I don't much care. Your level of complicity is immaterial."

"I heard about the bombing. I'm sorry people were harmed, but I had no part in it nor do I know anyone that did," Darius responded, keeping his voice calm and level, as he tried to make sense of the situation he found himself in.

"I don't like that answer," Owynne nodded slightly. The man on Darius left spun around and loosed a vicious backhand. "Do you understand what happens when I don't like your answers?"

Glittering blue eyes glared at the Commander, "I understand, but that doesn't change the fact that I can't tell you what I don't know."

Owynne sighed, "I was afraid you were going to be difficult..."

**~*~ ~*~ ~*~**

Hours later, Darius slumped against the bonds that held him to the chair. He hurt...every muscle, every breath hurt. The interrogation sessions lasted anywhere from thirty to forty-five minutes at a go before the Commander would call a halt and exit with his men. If Darius was tracking time correctly, an hour to two hours passed before they returned. A sound outside the door made him straighten with a breath hissed between his teeth.

"It seems," the Command said with a smile that did not touch his coal dark eyes, "that we may have been mistaken. You're free to go...I'll even have my associates drop you at the hospital." Owynne turned to leave, "I'm sure we'll meet again, Taino."

All Darius could manage was a weak glare. He felt the two men move around the chair and unfasten him. If one had not been holding his shoulder, Darius would probably have fallen to the floor. It took all his willpower to stand and walk out of the terrorist unit's headquarters and climb into the waiting transport. Neither of his escorts spoke as they transported him to the state hospital and dumped him in the receiving courtyard.

He was still on his feet, barely, as the transport left. Making his way inside was the last thing he remembered before the day caught up with him and he collapsed to the floor.

A message sent through her assistant was the only correspondence that Machelle received that her husband would be working late and not make it home in time for dinner. Roaming around that large house, alone, until the Gods only knew when did not appeal to Mrs. Owynne. Instead she remained at the hospital. She decided to catch up on research notes and medical journals. She was making her way from her office to do another round on her patients when her presence was requested in the Critical care ward.

The unit was alive with activity when she arrived, all of it centering around a single patient. "What have we got?"

"Taino, male," one of the nurses reported. "He collapsed just inside the intake ward. It looks as though he's been badly beaten."

Machelle walked around the bed, snapping on gloves as she went. She drew up short when she saw his face. "I know this man. He works at the Harconn Mine, I treated his wife a few days ago. Mira, pull up a medical file on Darius Jagger. Find out if he has any allergies or history of bar brawling." She finished pulling on her gloves and started cutting away at his tattered, blood spattered clothing. "Someone contact his wife, they may be Taino, but they're not mindless animals. I'm sure she'll be wondering where he is." Machelle's hands paused as the staff went to do as she'd told them. She gazed down at the injured man, mind working overtime. The man she met a few days before did not completely jive with the picture that Jerard painted of him. With the Taino, that didn't really mean much. Still, she couldn't shake a very odd feeling about all of this. "What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into," she said quietly.

"I had a small misunderstanding with..." Darius slitted blackened and swollen eyes opened and seeing who his doctor was, changed the direction he was going with his comment, "the state police. They confused me with someone else." He barely recognized his voice. It was hoarse and ragged.

That gave her reason for pause. Machelle stared down at him for several long moments. The only member of the state police who had any reason to think he was anyone was Jerard. She pushed the direction her thoughts were going completely aside as utterly absurd and continued her exam. "You shouldn't talk. Your wife has been called, she'll be here soon." She pulled open his shirt and found his torso as mottled with bruises as his face. Her hands probed gently, but found none of the initial signs of internal bleeding. "Let's get some scans," she said. "Full thoracic and abdominal series, and I want a neurological scan as well." For the Taino, the state normally only authorized the old-style films, depending on the type of injury.

The nurse stared at her, confused for a moment. "Doctor?"

"You heard me. I want to be thorough. You heard him, if the Police mistakenly identified him, I would think they'd be very embarrassed if he wasn't treated to the very best of our ability. Now get to work." Machelle walked over to the computer station and began entering the tests she wanted performed herself, so that there would be no mistaking it.

They were moving him to begin the first of the scans when a very concerned looking Sabyl Jagger arrived looking for her husband. "Darius." The sight of him had her stopping and lifting a hand to her mouth. "Darius!" She hurried over, unknowingly pushing a nurse out of her way. "What happened?" She sent a wild-eyed gaze around the bed. "What happened to him?"

"That's not entirely clear at this time, Mrs. Jagger." Machelle appeared beside her. "At the moment he's stable. We're going to take some scans and run some tests. We'll know more about the nature of his injuries then. The most we know at present is that someone may have mistakenly identified your husband."

"_Someone_." Sabyl's eyes narrowed. "Someone like the State Police? Is that the _someone_ that you're talking about? Or rather what you're not talking about. Am I to believe that you're _not_ telling me that my husband wasn't detained and then beaten when he didn't have the answers they wanted? That sort of thing happens all the time, most people just choose to ignore it."

Machelle bristled visibly, but chose not to rise to the bait. "I would suggest that for your husband's sake, you calm down. Move him," she told the orderlies. "Mira, show Mrs. Jagger where she can wait."

Darius winced as he moved, but still managed to hold his hand out to Sabyl. Hearing his wife's voice, even an angry voice made him feel safe, loved, and needed. Speaking low so he would not set himself to coughing again, He grasped her hand tightly, "Sab, it's okay, honey. I'm alright...Peace, dearest heart." He looked at her and tried to manage a smile, "It was a misunderstanding and you know my temper..."

She bent low over him and smoothed his mussed hair back from his brow. She gave him a watery smile. "Well your temper has been known to get you into trouble." She lifted his hand to her lips, kissing it gently. "They're going to run some scans," she told him. "I'll be waiting when you get back."

Nodding, Darius relaxed back against the gurney. Glancing up, he caught the doctor's eyes watching him curiously and he frowned. For a moment she seemed so familiar...and somehow close to him and Sabyl. But the feeling passed and he put it down to his recent run-in with her husband after having seen her a few days previously when she treated Sabyl. Reaching toward her, he croaked out, "Could someone get my wife a tea or something...anything? I don't want her to worry so."

"Darius," Sabyl began but was interrupted.

"Of course," Machelle said. "Mira, please see to Mrs. Jagger."

"Yes Doctor," the staff present found it odd they would cater to the Taino, but Doctor Owynne was senior hospital staff. The young nurse gestured for Sabyl to follow her and led the way toward the waiting area.

In the meantime, Machelle nodded at the orderlies to take Darius for his scans. Alone in the little cubicle, Machelle closed her eyes. It was absurd, she told herself again, that Jerard or any of his men would be involved in something so blatantly monstrous. The Taino might be beneath them, but they served a purpose, and what separated their two classes was the Realtan ability to think about the good of their world.

* * *

**Aleria, Lower City, Candle Residential Section **

Darius had no idea how long he slept once Sabyl got him home, but at long last, the need to relieve himself and get a glass of water overrode the medications he had been given. The hospital had transmitted his stay out of work orders directly to the mine as required by law so at least he had not had to worry for that. They had also reported that the injuries were caused by a "misunderstanding with the state". That was an acceptable reason to miss work and to keep Harconn from docking his credits for days absent...which seemed would be several. Rolling to his side, Darius pushed himself to a sitting position, and then stayed still waiting for the room to settle back down and stop spinning. Muttering a low-voiced imprecation, he tried to lever himself to his feet.

"Darius." Beside him, Sabyl stirred. Her worry for her husband had left her in a light state of slumber, when she did finally manage to fall asleep. When he moved, she sat up beside him. "Are you okay?" She reached out and very carefully laid a hand against his back. It was her way of making sure that he was there, that he was alive, and that nothing had taken him away from her. She still wasn't clear on what happened, but she knew that Darius would tell her when he was of a mind to. She just hoped he wouldn't make her wait too long. For the moment, it was more important that he be well. "Do you need anything?"

"No...no, sweetheart," he said as he made it to his feet finally, "some things I have to do myself, baby."

Darius made the slow trip to the bathroom. After taking care of the demands of his body, he washed up as best he could, cleansing the hospital smell from his skin. Next, he walked to the kitchen to get the water pitcher from the cooler and poured a tall glass, downing it in one long gulp. Two glasses of water later, he felt some of the muzziness from the meds start to fade and along with that came a return of the various aches and pains. This resulted in more imprecations as he poured another glass of water and made his way back to the bedroom. Picking up the packet of tablets off the night table, he downed the required number of pills, more water, and laid back down with a sigh.

Turning his head, he reached out to stroke Sabyl's silken, short locks, smiling at the concern in her sapphire eyes. "I'm okay, baby. Just would rather have other reasons for spending a mandated three days at home in bed," Darius' eyes twinkled with humor as he tried for a lecherous expression.

It earned him a smile, far brighter than she managed for him earlier. "I don't think you're going to be feeling like _that_ for quite a few days." She cupped his cheek with her palm and gently stroked the bruised skin with her thumb. "Darius, what happened? What did they want with you?"

Shifting so he could face her, Darius softly told her about the ordeal with the counter-terrorist unit and Commander Owynne. He did not embellish the story or leave out details. There had never been anything other than honesty between Sabyl and himself. He finished the story at his arrival at the hospital, and smiled..."next thing I knew, I heard your angelic voice and saw your beautiful face. I knew I would be fine then. You were there, you would take care of me."

"I wasn't the one taking care of you." Sabyl frowned. "Do you think she knew?" There was no question as to which _she_ Sabyl was talking about. "Do you think that it's part of the program. The Commander does what he wants, and he can treat any of us however he would like. The only crime in many cases is simply existing. This isn't the first time our people have been afraid to walk down a street because of that man, and how convenient is it that his wife happens to be a highly placed physician at the State Hospital? She can order scans and treatments that would never be authorized for a Taino, and no one would question it. The State simply pays for it and the evidence of what the _Commander_ did is swept right under the rug."

"You always take care of me," Darius responded with a gentle, loving smile. "Just knowing you're here, just having you to come home to, is taking care of me." Moving carefully, he rolled to where he could face her and wrap her in his arms, "I am not sure Dr. Owynne is completely aware of the depth of rage that lies within her husband. He is like a wounded animal that has lost the ability to reason...no less dangerous for that. I think I can understand to an extent...to not have justice for the death of a loved one...such as what happened to their son. It could eat you alive. We have first-hand knowledge on how easy that is to happen...I was close when Sharayne and Sevyn were taken. To never know their fate for certain...it is hard some days to not give in to the urge to harm everyone that may have been behind that...to hate all those of the Waros and Realta caste."

"That is what makes you a better man," she said softly. "If not higher placed. Do not deceive yourself, Darius. The doctor knows. A wife always knows what is in her husband's heart. Some are just better at deceiving themselves than others." She stroked his hair. "I don't understand why he's chosen you. You were in the mine on the day of the bombing, at the school and the visitor's center."

Darius let her words sink in and he played with them in his thoughts while her gentle presence warmed him. Enjoying the feel of her fingers stroking his hair, he nestled closer as they subtly shifted positions until it was her cradling him against her breast. The medication was starting to ease him back toward sleep, but what she said triggered those faint feelings of familiarity with the Commander and his wife. "I don't understand either, love. But each time I've seen them...there's been a feeling that I _know_ something...maybe something I shouldn't."

"Shh," she crooned gently, still stroking his hair. "Rest love." A line was drawn between her brows at the thoughts his words provoked. She had similar feelings when faced with the Owynnes. It was as if something lurked at the back of her mind, something she couldn't quite bring forward. Sabyl brushed a kiss across her husband's brow and allowed her mind to wander, to think what that might be.

* * *

**Aleria, Upper City, Echelon Residential Section **

The hour had grown late and was edging into the wee hours of the morning before Machelle Owynne finally allowed herself to contemplate the thought of going home. Because of the late hour she took a transport, and even after it left her in front of the home she shared with her husband, she stood staring at the large house for quite some time. It seemed to loom over her, and for once, she wasn't really certain that she wanted to go inside. There was a chill in the air, and she couldn't say for certain that it was the weather causing it. A shiver ran down her spine and after a few moments more, she finally walked inside.

In the front hall her overcoat was removed. She draped it over her arm as she walked through the house. She passed the parlor and the heavy scent of alcohol hung in the air. Machelle's shoulders slumped, her head bowed. She breathed a heavy sigh and fought back the keen sting of tears. She stood in the hall for another moment, wavering on what she would do. Finally she squared her shoulders and found the strength for a smile. "Jerard," she walked into the parlor and dropped her overcoat over the back of a chair. "Darling it's late, you should be in bed."

"Where have you been?" The Commander's voice was harsh, but surprisingly clear for the amount of alcohol he had consumed since coming in to an empty house. Having been ordered to release the Taino did not sit well with him and the frustration led him to drink more than he normally would.

"I was at the hospital, Jerard. Where else would I be?" She chose to humor him and reached for the bottle from which he'd been drinking. She placed the stopper back in the finely etched crystal and carried it back to the service on the other side of the room, hoping he would get the hint. "I'm afraid I got caught up in my work, there was a patient that I simply could not leave."

"I'm sure there was." A sarcastic, bitter tone edged Jerard's voice. He suspected once the order came to release Taino Jagger and he had been taken to the hospital that he would wind up in Machelle's care. That had led Jerard to use his accesses to view the records on Jagger's treatment. "A Taino, right? Once you sponsored extra services for? A potential terrorist?"

Machelle bristled. "Don't you use that tone of voice with me Jerard Owynne." She whirled around, eyes flashing angrily. "I want you to tell me that you had nothing to do with that. That you did not have that man beaten to within an inch of his life because of what you _think_ he may have done. Tell me that you didn't damn near have him killed and then dump him at my hospital when you couldn't prove it, so that I could clean up your mess!"

"I was _ordered_ to release him. Seems the Exalted knows better than I how to track down terrorists and murderers." Jerard rose to his feet. "I will do what is needed to get answers and I _know_ that Taino had something to do with the bombing. From the looks of it, he had more than _something_ to do with it. The man's too intelligent to be a mere member of the TRM. I'd say he's one of the leaders. One of the ones that _murdered_ our son."

"Jerard don't do this." Machelle placed her hands against his chest. She could feel the power that radiated off him, fueled by anger and hatred. "Don't be this man. The man that I _know_ you are wouldn't stand for this. The man who swept me off my feet, who believes in his work, who would never rest until he had his answers. The man that..." The sting of tears was back as she took his face in her hands and made him look into her beseeching eyes. "Calyb's father, the man who carried him on his shoulders, who could make him laugh like no one else. Be _that_ man, baby. Don't become something you despise."

"Yeah...maybe you're wrong about _that man_. Calyb was denied justice. I will see that doesn't happen this time. In the process, if a few Taino conspirators get a few bruises, I can live with that. In the end, routing the the terrorists will _save_ lives." Jerard's voice was cool...no anger, the heat of the alcohol dissipating rapidly. "I am who I have always been, Machelle. Nothing has changed. I just know what I have to do now."

"No, Jerard. You're wrong," she said quietly, her heart breaking. "You have changed. The man I married wouldn't act this way, and he wouldn't treat me with so much disregard as to put me in the position that you did tonight." Machelle pulled away from him and smoothed down her skirt and blouse. "It's very late, and I'm very tired. I'm going to bed. I suggest you clean up before you join me. You reek of alcohol," she said coolly.

Jerard watched her walk away, his eyes shadowed. He did not know how to make Machelle understand that the threat from the terrorists was very real and very dangerous. The intelligence he was once again privy to cited numerous incidents that had marginally been thwarted. There were threats and activity in the other cities but no where as strong as Aleria...Raahe's capital and a symbol for the world to look to. If he could break the Aleria cells, they could clean up the threat entirely and for good. Jagger was, somehow, a key. A dark smile graced Jerard's handsome features. Jagger had been quite resistant to their questioning...calm and mostly defiant to the end. He should have anticipated that. After all the man was involved in murdering school children. Physical discomfort was unlikely to move him...but what about something that meant the world to Jagger...his wife. The decision felt like a sound one. Turning, he headed for the shower knowing he needed to make amends with Machelle...the one good thing in his life


	5. Whispers in the Dark

The city streets were quiet, even in Ttown as the Lower City was often called. The transport was painted black and slipped in next to the house without a sound. As with most vehicles the military used, it ran on a whisper technology. The rear hatch slid open and two gurneys floated out and at a touch followed the four men up to the door of the modest residence. A few minutes later, the Jaggers were back in their bed, none the wiser for their evening's outing to the Memron level of the State Hospital. At the same time, another transport slipped into a sheltered parking spot in front of a large, elegant home in the Echelon District. Less than fifteen minutes later, the Owynnes were in their beds, resting quietly. The Director could report to the Exalted that the plan was proceeding. The off worlders' memory stamps were intact and getting stronger. In time, the reinforcements would not be needed. For now, there was still the danger of their real personalities returning if the updates were missed.

**Aleria, Lower City, Candle Residential Section**

A sleek gray transport stopped at the curb on the end of the street. The transports came and went through Ttown but rarely did they stop, and rarely was a well dressed woman found wandering the streets alone. Even in the middle of the day it was an oddity. Machelle Owynne strolled quickly toward the address taken from the hospital database. She looked around and fidgeted nervously when she reached the Jagger residence. Ostensibly her reason for visiting the Jaggers was to assure herself that the Taino man was healing well, but the underbelly of her reasoning was much darker. Jerard came to her after their quarrel the night the Taino man was brought under her care. He said all the right things, held her as though she was the most precious in his world, but now three days later Machelle was beginning to wonder again. She chose to believe him that night, and on the morning that followed. Yet there was this nagging little feeling at the back of her mind that she could not quite be without, it told her that not all was as well with her husband as she would like to believe and if she had any hope of saving the man she loved she would have to take matters into her own hands.

Machelle did not know if Darius Jagger and his wife had any involvements with the TRM. In her brief encounters with them they did not seem the sort. Not the type of people that could blow school children asunder. She wasn't certain that she knew what sort of person could do that, or if she ever really wanted to know, but she imagined that person would stand out from a crowd. That he wouldn't put his wife's needs and cares before his own. That he wouldn't look at her and lie about the nature of his injuries to help her save face in front of her colleagues about the kind of man her husband was turning out to be. None of those actions struck her as the sort of man who was a terrorist, or could be involved with terrorists. Part of being a physician was the ability to read people, Machelle liked to believe that she was a good doctor, and that her position within the hospital was not solely based on wealth and power. That meant she liked to think that she could read people and read them well. Which was probably why Jerard's behavior continued to bother her so.

A soft sigh passed her lips. She hesitated momentarily but steeled herself against the task she set herself. Machelle placed her hand against the panel beside the door. It would signal her presence to the residents within. While she waited, she sent up a silent prayer that she was not mistaken, that this situation could be saved. That all of them could be saved.

Darius had just gotten out of bed and settled on the sofa when the door alert sounded. He was clad only in pajama pants although there was a chill in the air outside. His wife insisted on running through extra utility credits in order to keep him warm and comfortable. The injuries left from his ordeal of being incarcerated were healing nicely, but some where still sensitive to clothing rubbing against them. Sabyl was still in the bedroom, tidying up from the last three days that had been spent mostly in the bedroom. Getting back to his feet, Darius made his way to the door and tapped the security monitor. His brows lifted in surprise at the identity of their visitor. Opening the door, he stepped back, "Dr. Owynne, welcome, please come in."

"Mister Jagger." Machelle looked around again before she stepped over the threshold and into the home. It was small, as she would expect for a Taino. But she found it surprisingly well kept. "You're looking well. I apologize for the intrusion," she began. "I simply wanted to see how you were doing. Your injuries were fairly... extensive."

It was impossible to hide surprise at the doctor's reasons for her visit. Perhaps in the world of the Realta and Waros, doctors paid follow-up visits at the homes of their patients. In a few, very rare instances, a ranking guild member that was too ill or injured to be taken back to the hospital could request home euthanasia and doctors accompanied the technicians for that. "I am healing," Darius responded, his tone pleasant though neutral...neither inviting nor off putting. "May I offer you tea?" He asked as he watched the woman look around their home. Darius suspected this was the first time she had left her gilded tower in a very long while...if ever.

"That would be very kind," she said, managing a smile. "Thank you. I realize how very odd this must seem..."

"Darius, who was at the door." Sabyl joined them from the bedroom, dressed comfortably in a loose pair of pants and a tunic. Her surprise at their visitor's identity was reflected clearly on her face. "Doctor." Sabyl's face was carefully schooled into a neutral expression.

"Mrs. Jagger. I was just explaining to your husband that I came to see how he was healing. I wanted to make sure there was no lasting damage." She blew out a breath. "Can we all speak frankly with one another?" She looked between the two of them. "I know how your husband came by his injuries, I am so very sorry," she said to Darius, unable to keep the sorrow out of her expression.

"Tea first, then talk," Darius stated. Courtesy to visitors was the first rule amongst the Taino. A guest in the home was to be treated kindly, protected from all danger, honored and respected. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed three mugs. Tapping the hot water dispenser to fill the containers, he then added a fragrant herbal tea, taking his time as he settled his thoughts. Carrying the mugs back in, he set one on a small table next to the one easy chair before he took a seat on the sofa and handed the other mug to Sabyl. Without conscious thought, Darius took one of Sabyl's hands in his free one. "Now, Doctor, exactly how _frank_ do you want to be?"

Heat seeped through the mug and into her cold hands as Machelle perched on the edge of the chair. "My husband believes that you're involved with the Resistance, which I'm sure you're more than aware of now."

"Then why are you here, Doctor," Sabyl asked coolly. "Surely if we've been marked as possible terrorists," her lip curled in disgust at the very idea of it, "you're not doing yourself any favors."

"No, probably not," she admitted. "My husband doesn't know that I'm here, and I would very much like to keep it that way. What Jerard isn't aware of won't cause him anymore distress." Machelle paused for a moment, to choose her words carefully. "I don't wish to make excuses for his recent behavior, but you have to understand, he wasn't always so... driven. I don't know either of you, I don't know what ties you do or do not have. For all that I know he could very well be right, and I'm putting myself and his investigation in danger. The fact is, he thinks that you are responsible for our son's death, or that you were in some way involved. You may have been, but I'd like to think if you had, you couldn't look me in the eye now."

"I remember the incident that resulted in your son's death and I grieve for him and you," Darius spoke softly. "My sister, she who raised me after the death of our parents, was taken by the state police...she and her husband both...for nothing more than voicing their objections to the treatment of people by the Exalted and his regime. I have never been able to find what became of Sharayne and Sevyn. That has become the way of our world since this Exalted came to power. Children die and beloved family disappear. Neither should ever happen. I understand grief, Dr. Owynne, all too well. It does not excuse a person's actions."

"I understand that, Mr. Jagger. Only too well. I'm not trying to excuse my husband, but the man that he is becoming, he wasn't always like this. He was fair and idealistic, and then he watched our son die. He was there when it happened. It... changed him."

"He was traumatized and so beating my husband nearly to death is okay?" Sabyl shook her head. "I don't think so, Doctor. Nothing can make that sort of behavior appropriate. Your husband is the reason that many of us live in fear." She glanced at Darius, "I'm sorry, but it must be said. Neither Darius nor myself are in anyway involved in the Resistance, we simply wish to live our lives and perform our duties. We want to be left in whatever relative peace we are allowed to have."

Darius tightened his hold on Sabyl's hand ever so gently, a squeeze of love and support, not of admonition. Returning his gaze to Machelle Owynne, he gestured toward the world outside with his tea mug, "This world is all we have. We owe it and ourselves respect and care. Change is needed. The Exalted is cruel and gains amusement from cruelty. Yet acts of terrorism only put us on his level and ultimately turns us into what we would fight against as it has done to your husband. I do not know if your husband was, in truth, ever a good man, madam, but you believe he was and is...that is how it should be. When we lose faith in our mates, we lose faith in ourselves."

Standing, Darius moved to glance out of the window, his blue eyes shadowed, "For your peace of mind, Lady Doctor, I have never taken part in terrorist activities even at the lowest levels. I do not know those that are involved in the TRM although one hears talk everywhere. I can also state that my wife is equally clear of the taint of terrorism...probably far more than I as I doubt there's even talk of such things at her job." He paused for several moments before turning to look at the dark haired woman that had, most likely, risked much to come see them seeking peace of mind and perhaps exoneration for someone she loved. "I hope your husband can find those that are responsible for the acts of terrorism and I hope he can find peace for until he does, as long as he lives and wields the power he does, none of the Taino are safe."

"I know." Machelle put her tea aside and rose to join him at the window. "I haven't given up on him. I don't know that I could. Jerard _is_ a good man. He's kind and fair, but what is driving him now is grief and anger. All I can do is keep trying to reach him. Be careful, Mr. Jagger. He has his mind set on you, for some reason, and for all that he really is a good man, my husband is incredibly stubborn. Avoid the police if you can," she told them both. "If you even suspect that someone you know is involved with the TRM stay away from them. If he brings you in for questioning again..." Machelle closed her eyes for a moment. She knew it would quite likely be as brutal as the last time. "He'll probably do it when I'm not at the hospital, he wasn't pleased with how you were treated. Have your wife send for me. Jerard isn't going to like it, but he's just going to have to learn to live with that. I intend to save him, even if that means saving him from himself." On instinct she placed a hand on his shoulder. "For whatever it's worth, I believe you."

Turning to look at the tall, aristocratically beautiful woman that stood beside him, Darius flashed a smile. It was the one that made everyone and everything around him light up. "Madam Doctor, believe me when I say the only thing any Taino wishes to do is avoid the police." Reaching up, he rested a hand on hers where it lay on his shoulder, "I believe you have a kind heart and a strong will. Consider turning both toward evincing change. Perhaps that is the only way to save your husband."

"Perhaps." Machelle allowed her hand to fall. "Now, I've taken up enough of your day. I really must be going. I fear if I'm found here I won't be doing either of you any favors." She turned. "Thank you, Mrs. Jagger, for allowing me into your home. It really is very lovely," she said genuinely. "The tea was very good. You'll have to tell me how you came by it." For a moment, her eyes sparkled. "That should make conversation at my next dinner party very interesting." Smiling for both of them, she headed for the door, where she paused. "If you need anything," she told them. "Please do not hesitate to ask. Good day."

**Aleria, The Forum, Counter-Terrorism Unit **

"Dr. Machelle Owynne is in holding room one per your request, sir."

Jerard looked up from the images displayed on his desk and almost smiled. A livid impression of someone's hand graced the young lieutenant's right cheek. "Thank you. Dismissed."

The man left and the Commander leaned back, his eyes dark and hooded. A few moments later, he stood, straightened his tunic and walked to holding one. Taking a deep breath he signaled the guard and the door slid open. "Hello, my dear. I understand you've had a busy morning."

Machelle turned her furious blue gaze on him. "You'd best have a very good explanation for this, _dear_." She spoke from behind clenched teeth. He knew where she had been, she wasn't stupid enough to think otherwise, considering where she was apprehended. That didn't stop her from being furious with him for doing it.

Jerard raised his hand, glaring distastefully at the sparkling, woven net that covered his hand like a glove. Tapping the air, he brought up the display along with the images of Machelle at the Jaggers. They started from when she exited the transport and showed her progress in three-second increments all the up to her return to the transport and subsequent apprehension by two of his agents. Reaching out, his hand glanced over the image of her standing next to Jagger, framed by the picture window, her hand resting on the other man's powerful, bare shoulder. Turning to her, Owynne settled a hip on the edge of the table, "Care to explain?"

"Don't be ridiculous Jerard. Ten years of marriage and now you decide to act like a jealous husband? Please." She rolled her eyes at him. "I was checking on a patient. It's really very simple. You could have saved us both a lot of time, effort, and yourself a night on the parlor sofa if you had simply asked." Machelle folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. "You beat a man nearly to death, without really concealing the fact that it was you who did it, and you do so without any substantiated evidence, so of course I'm going to make sure that the man is healing properly. What I would really care to know is when you decided to start having me followed."

"Jealous? No...concerned yes. First, I was not having _you_ followed. The Jaggers are under observation, of course," the Commander spoke easily. "And what happens inside these walls does not concern you in the future. My standing orders are to find and deal with terrorists. I will do that as I see fit."

"Is that an order, _Commander_?" Machelle's eyes narrowed. "Are you even hearing yourself, Jerard? Do you even think before you act anymore. You have me picked up off the street like a common thug. I've been bound, I've been manhandled, and I've been embarrassed." She walked slowly toward him as she spoke. "Yet, the only thing that seems to phase you at all is that I might have been stepping on your toes. It hasn't occurred to you at all that I could be trying to protect you. Tell me, _husband_, did it cross your mind even once that if Darius Jagger is who you say he is that I have a right to look that man in the eye myself?"

"And did it occur to you that you could have had your throat slit? Once Jagger is apprehended and tried, _then_ you can _look him in the eye_. Until then, you cease and desist having any contact with the Jaggers." Owynne regarded his wife quizzically, "So..._why_ did you really go to the Jagger's? It's not like you to make house calls."

"I'm worried about you, Jerard. This behavior isn't like you. I'm concerned for how this looks, for you. Until you have reason and proof to have him tried, Jagger still has a few rights. Even if he is Taino. The least that I can do is make sure you didn't seriously injure the man. The Resistance uses acts like that to fuel their movement. I'm trying to soften the blow before he can get his friends to retaliate. Besides, I don't think his wife is involved, she was there. I was perfectly safe."

"Jagger has the rights I say he has and I'll bring the bastard in every day if I have to until he hands over his murderous friends. Stay out of this Machelle," Owynne warned quietly. "Where would you like to go for lunch? I'm getting hungry." The smile he turned toward his wife was engaging and lit his dark eyes.

The sudden change in him turned her stomach. She would need to find some way of getting word to the Jaggers before he could act again. In the meantime, she wasn't prepared to give up on him. Lurking somewhere in the darkness that seemed to fill him, she knew her husband remained. "Lunch would be lovely," she lied easily. She forced the smile she gave him. "I was planning to do some shopping today before someone so rudely interrupted those plans. I might still be willing to arrange the surprise I had in mind for this evening if my husband thinks he can make it home for dinner at a reasonable hour?"

"Of course I'll be home directly after my shift," Jerard rose to his feet and waved the display away before pulling of the 'net glove. "Let me drop this thing in my office and notify my aide. We can go to LaChard if you like? I know it's one of your favorites." He took her arm and leaned in for a kiss. "Shall we...?"

"You mean I'm allowed to leave, _Commander_?" She placed a hand against her chest and affected a surprised look. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather tie me up and lock me away forever?" She walked past him. "Where's that Lieutenant. I wasn't finished talking to him..."

Jerard chuckled softly and trailed his wife out the door. Unwittingly, Machelle had solidified his thoughts into a plan of action.

* * *

**Aleria, Lower City, Candle Residential Section**

In the end it was another three days before the Commander could put the first element of his plan into motion. It seemed Taino Jagger was so highly thought up by his Harconn supervisors that he was given several extra days of paid leave. Guiding his transport to a vacant spot about a block from the Jaggers' residence, Owynne took his time leaving the vehicle and strolling down the street. It had been years since he visited anywhere in Ttown...since before Calyb's death. Looking around, he decided it seemed darker now. No children played on the small, sparse lawns and none of the residents were outside talking or watching the children play. It was as if the Lower City had closed itself down to protect its secrets. These thoughts led him around the corner and up the walk to the Jaggers' front door. Rather than passing his hand over the alert sensor, he knocked firmly, "Mrs. Jagger, I know you're home. It would be advisable to let me in so we can speak...or we can talk out here."

Sabyl was home before Darius, as was habit for them. She was in the kitchen contemplating what she might do about dinner when she heard his voice. They knew that he wasn't finished with them. Doctor Owynne had managed to get word to her, which was much safer than attempting to contact Darius. Sabyl squared her shoulders before she walked toward the living room to answer the door. She passed her hand over the sensor and took an involuntary step backward when it opened. "Commander Owynne," the man inspired fear, but she attempted to remember her manners. "Please come in, what can I do for you?"

Jerard entered and glanced around. The home was small and clean with sparse furnishings and decorations. Yet what was there were well appointed and tasteful. He had nothing to compare the Jaggers' home to as it was the first Taino residence he had entered for something other than a raid which normally left the place a shambles. He took a turn around the room before stopping to face the tall, elegant blond woman. A frown graced his face as a wave of familiarity assailed him. Assuming it was due to the hours spent staring at the Jaggers' images in the files, he dismissed the feeling.

"Mrs. Jagger, your husband has some very naughty after hours activities. It would go so much better for him...and you...if he were to give himself up and cut a deal by handing over others in the TRM," Owynne was not prone to long conversations.

"I really do not know what you're talking about," Sabyl answered honestly. "If Darius has done anything you feel is wrong, I'm sure he's unaware of it. My husband works very hard. He's a good man. He spends one evening a week at the Tavern with his friends from the mine. It's a very crowded place, hardly the sort of place where anything covert might go on." She inclined her head at him. "I don't know why you've chosen Darius, but you really do have the wrong man, Commander."

"So you say, so he says...even so _my wife_ says, however, I have a hard time believing any of you. Darius Jagger is a traitor and a terrorist born of a long line of traitors and terrorists." Owynne walked around the small living room, glancing at the bits and pieces of a Taino life. "Consider this...I could have your child credit revoked, have you both ordered in for sterilization. That's an option, you know. Potential trouble makers can be rendered incapable of producing future trouble makers." Jerard's voice was pleasant, even light.

Sabyl paled at the threat. She and Darius no longer spoke of having a child but it wasn't shelved, not completely, not as far as she was concerned. "I can't tell you what you would like to know, so you're going to threaten me? Are you going to have me beaten too? Darius has done nothing wrong. Whatever his family might have done before him, it has no bearing on the man that he is. Or are you saying that our associations color us, despite the people that we are?" Her jaw clenched. She was taking a chance, but the man enraged her with his threats. It didn't sit well with her, the way that he was acting, the way that she was being treated. She was Taino, he was Waros, it was simply the way the world worked, and yet her instinct was to fight back. "If that's true, Commander, then I should believe your wife is a cold-hearted, conniving woman, who cares for nothing besides her own power and position despite evidence I've seen to the contrary."

"Sticks and stones..." Jerard quipped and then frowned as he wondered at the origin of the phrase. He hated cliches. "In other words, I could care less what you believe of me or my wife. I've warned her to cease and desist with her misguided concern for you." Making a final circuit of the room like a great bird of prey, Owynne moved for the door, "Convince your husband to contact me and give himself and his associates up. I'll do what I can to mitigate his sentence." Jerard pulled the door open without adding the melodramatic _or else_ to his request. The woman was strong, but not stupid. Pushing further would accomplish nothing. Hearing the door swish shut behind him, he smiled as he stepped off the porch and headed down the walk.

Sabyl sank into a seat, pale and shaken by the encounter. As angry as she was by the man's tactics and the way he insisted upon treating them, as much as her instincts pushed her to fight back, she was not completely unaffected by the Commander's visit. He had the power to completely destroy their lives, and yet, through it all she pitied him more. The man was so blinded by his rage and hatred he couldn't see what he stood to lose. Sabyl leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes while she waited for the fear and powerlessness the man tried to instill in her to fade.

Darius stopped at the walkway to his house and smiled. He was a bit later than usual having taken a circuitous route home. He had expected to be watched and followed so feeling watched as he left the mine did not really surprise him. What did surprise him was not spotting any of the distinctive black uniforms amongst the thronging after work crowds. Several times he thought he spotted someone, but by the time he reached his final transit station, there was no one he could pinpoint as tailing him. He shrugged and walked on. If the CTU was trailing after him, they had to know he was going home. Far easier to just pick him up there. To make up for the late arrival, Darius had stopped at one of the vendor's that lined the walkways just outside the transit stations and purchased small bouquet of flowers and a prettily metal and ceramic pin for Sabyl's short, tousled hair. Imagining the little jewel nestled in her silken locks made him smile again.

Trotting up the steps, Darius entered the house and stopped dead, the smile disappearing. Crossing the room, he dropped the flowers and the pin on the sofa and knelt by his wife. "Sabyl, dear heart, what's wrong...what happened?"

Her eyes lifted to him and then past to the window. She didn't realize she'd been sitting there for so long. "I'm okay." she raised a hand to cup his cheek. As much as she might like, she couldn't hide the truth from him. It was too dangerous. "Our _friend_ the Commander came by for a visit. He wanted to... beseech upon me how important it is that you give yourself up, along with your associates in the Resistance." Sabyl pushed herself out of the chair to pace the length of the room. "The man is completely insufferable."

Rising to his feet, Darius felt his heart clench in his chest at her words. Owynne had been here, in their home! His next reaction was rage. How dare the man threaten Sabyl. "This has gone far enough. It's time I had a face to face chat with the Commander without his goons present." Darius turned, preparing to leave.

"Darius no." Sabyl grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back around to face her. "You can't, this is exactly the reaction he's hoping for. You'll go looking for him, bent on rage, and he'll have you exactly where he wants you. You cannot act on this. He wanted to frighten us, don't give him the satisfaction."

As quickly as it came, the anger left, and Darius gathered Sabyl into his arms. She was right...she was almost always right. Going after Commander Owynne was a no win situation. He would only succeed in getting himself killed and most likely Sabyl as well. "No...no...you're right. Of course you're right."

"We've done nothing wrong," she murmured against his ear. "Sooner or later he's going to move on to someone else. We just have to be patient. He has nothing. There's no reason for this to continue. Sooner or later he will realize that and we'll have our lives back. Until then we just have to stay calm." Sabyl wasn't entirely sure she believed that, but at the moment it sounded good. "He wanted to frighten me, but more than that, I pity him, Darius."

**Aleria, Echelon Residential Section **

The morning dawned with rain which precisely matched Jerard's mood. He was conducting his work from home that day, a privilege he rarely exercised. Sitting down in the well appointed home office, he pulled the old fashioned keyboard from its niche and pulled up the day's work. Quickly, he typed in the day's assignments before pulling up his messages. The first three were routine administration issues which he dealt with promptly by assigning them back to his senior aide. The next message opened at his command and Owynne stopped dead with his coffee half way to his mouth.

The first image on the heads up display was his son's school, its elegant spires blackened and twisted. The image was caught just as brilliant orange, gold, and red flames exploded from the side of the school that housed the students Calyb's age...the smaller children. The next image showed the front lawn of the school and debris and human remains ejected from the powerful explosions. The next image focused in on Calyb's mangled and blackened body. By now, Jerard was gripping the keyboard and breathing hard. As if in a trance, he clicked for the next image. Hissing in recognition and rage, Jerard typed in the command to magnify the next image. Standing in the crowd of onlookers, smiling, cold eyes staring at the school was Darius Jagger.

On the heels of the last image, memories hit the man hard, bending him double across his desk. The sounds of the explosion, the screams, the smell of burned flesh, his son's glassy staring eyes in a face no longer truly human, rolling over to see the crowd, to see Jagger standing there...smiling...admiring his handiwork. Owynne shot to his feet. Jerard did not stop to think that these images, his memories...it was all very convenient after all these years. All he saw was his quarry and, at long last, justice for his small son.

Tapping the com unit, Owynne schooled his voice to not betray his emotions, "Riso, I will be coming in after all today. I am sending you a warrant for the Jaggers. Bring them both in. If you can't get the man, apprehend the woman. I can guarantee that will bring Taino Jagger to our door. I'd rather you wait until the mid-day meal break to execute the warrant. It'll be the least disruptive at the Hub and the mine." Jerard continued speaking, outlining his instructions in detail. There would be no reason for his mobile units to not understand the orders.

Outside the office Machelle Owynne pressed her back against the wall as she listened. It was not her custom to eavesdrop, but she had been hoping to entice her husband into a leisurely breakfast, possibly more. Anything which might take his mind off his work and help him remember the man he used to be. She closed her eyes while she listened to his orders. It did not seem that there would be any stopping him. She waited until he finished talking to push away from the wall. She plastered a smile on her face and shook her hair back. If there was one thing she had become adept at after ten years of marriage to this man and the loss of their only son, it was convincing her husband that everything was alright.

"There you are. I thought I might find you down here." She walked to his side, her mind already clear on what she needed to do. Somehow she needed to get a warning to the Jaggers. While her mind went over the details, she worked at distracting her husband from realizing what she _might_ know. She slid a hand up his back and leaned up to place a kiss to the curve of his jaw. "It's too horrid outside to do anything but be lazy. So I propose breakfast. You... me... the rest of the world be damned. If you play your cards right, Mr. Owynne, there could even be a lazy morning in bed involved, since I am feeling very generous at the moment. What do you say?"

"I'm sorry, my dear. With you off today, I wanted to spend the day at home, but duty calls. I need to go in to HQ." Bending his head, he captured Machelle's lips in a warm, passionate kiss. When he looked at her next, his dark eyes were warm and affectionate, "I promise you, another day or two and all this will be behind us. We'll go away somewhere for a well-deserved vacation that involves a lot of lying in an expensive hotel room and being waited on."

"When the '_do not disturb_' isn't on the door." She placed her hands against his chest and smiled up at him. "I hope that you're right," she said. "I want this behind us, Jerard. Go on, I'll spend the day lazing about by myself. If the rain lets up I may go shopping. Nothing makes me feel better like spending all of your credits on pampering myself." Her smile faltered, and for a moment she sobered. "I love you." If he ever learned what she was about to do it would destroy their marriage, but saving him was worth the risk. They'd lost Calyb, she couldn't stand the thought of losing him too.


	6. Remembering Yesterday

**Aleria, Upper-Center City, Shopping District**

Once Jerard left, Machelle quickly put her plan into motion. She was aware she could be followed since the incident of having her apprehended, so she planned for that contingency. She dressed for a day of shopping and took her transport to the Upper-Center city shopping district. Many of the shops there were interconnected, and she used that to her advantage, traveling from one to another until she felt confident enough that she had lost herself in the crowd of shoppers. It was only then that she sent a message to Sabyl Jagger, requesting to see the woman immediately. She conveyed the absolute importance of the meeting, and that she was requesting it at all should be reason enough. She told the Taino woman where to meet her, and then she positioned herself to observe and wait for her arrival. If Sabyl was followed, Machelle would know it. Being married to the Commander had its advantages in learning tricks of the trade.

That she was surprised at the summons went without saying. Sabyl was tempted, very tempted, to ignore it. If Commander Owynne knew of their last meeting, he could easily learn of this one. Sabyl could not help but feel that the doctor was putting herself, as well as them, at risk. At the same time, she could not suppress her curiosity. It was that, as well as her own concern for _why_ Machelle Owynne wanted to see her that had her leaving the Hub after the start of her shift.

The shopping district was unusually crowded given the weather, but Sabyl supposed that was to their advantage. So too was the fact that even the Taino shopped here, if they had the credits, so she would not seem so out of place among the plethora of Realta that were milling about. They were set to meet in a Childrens' boutique, which was convenient as neither of them had any children. Sabyl walked into the shop and looked around, she did not see Machelle anywhere, but there were none of the familiar black uniforms of the State police either. She moved through the shop, making her way toward the back, and pretended to browse.

Machelle watched her enter, then spent several minutes waiting for any signs the woman was followed. When there were none, she moved through the shop in the direction Sabyl had gone. She stopped at a rack, there was a display between them, but she knew she would be heard. Luckily, no one else was nearby. "There is a row of changing rooms in the back," Machelle said quietly. "I'll meet you there." Without waiting for acknowledgment she walked away from the rack and wound her way to the back of the store. She was not disappointed, Sabyl joined her in the small room a few moments later.

"You have my attention," Sabyl's blue gaze was concerned, but guarded. "What is the meaning of this? If your husband finds out we've met again, he'll have me arrested on principal and there's no way of knowing what he's capable of doing to you."

"Jerard would never hurt me," Machelle replied, believing it to the very core of her being. "He will hurt you, and your husband." She held out a clear silicon card. "He's issued a warrant to have you both arrested. He's planning on doing it during the mid-day break. Whatever his reasoning is neither of you will be let go this time. You need to leave town. This card has enough credits to do both of you for a while. It's not traceable."

Sabyl stared at her as though she had lost her mind. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping us? You may believe he wouldn't hurt you, but I'm not convinced. He's cold, barely even a person."

"Because I love him. He can be saved. I just need more time." Machelle sighed. "I believe your husband when he says he wasn't involved in the bombing. A man capable of that could not look me in the eye and lie that convincingly. Besides that, the fact that he had me in his home and could have used me against Jerard is enough. If he were involved in the TRM that's exactly what he would have done. When I look into my husband's eyes I see the darkness. I see the ice. That isn't true for yours. A man with that much warmth and love in his heart couldn't do the things Jerard believes him capable of."

"I hope you're right about him," Sabyl said gently. "For your sake." Something about this woman was so keenly familiar. Her need to heal, to save someone beyond saving. Sabyl could not identify why it tugged at her so, but it did. She wrapped her fingers around the thin piece of silicon. It was cool to the touch. She felt a shiver run down her spine. "This should not be happening," she whispered.

"We don't really have time to debate that." Machelle pressed the credits card into her hand. "Run," she told her. "Get out of Aleria. Do not come back."

On some impulse she couldn't name Sabyl pulled the woman that was risking so much for them into a quick embrace. "Be careful. Do not trust him. There is madness in his heart."

"I know my way around my husband. Now go." Machelle stepped back to let her out of the little changing room. "Good luck."

Darius exited the mine just in time to make the next transport to the transit station. Sabyl's message had been urgent so Darius made the excuse to his supervisor that he was starting to hurt from his injuries. As he rarely took time off, his request to leave was promptly granted along with expressions of concern. He kept a sharp eye out for the distinctive tunics of the CTU as he crossed the short distance from the transport pad into the transit station itself. Since the military and state police did not bother with covert operations, it was highly unlikely they had stationed anyone in civilian clothing to watch them. Just inside the terminal, Darius spotted Sabyl pacing back and forth anxiously. Crossing the distance quickly, he stopped beside his wife. "Sabyl, dearest, what is it?" It was so unlike his fiercely independent, strong wife to be anxious or frightened.

"Darius." She didn't truly breathe until she saw him, and would not relax until they were somewhere safe. "They're going to arrest us. Machelle warned me. They'll be making their move at mid-day. We have to move quickly if we're going to get out of the city in time. Machelle gave us enough credits to get out of Aleria and live on for sometime."

Without questioning her further, he took her gently by the arm, turned and headed for the incoming mag-lev. It was not the one that would deposit them at the station nearest their home, in fact it would stop several blocks beyond their home area transit station. A moment's pride made him almost request that she dump the credits, but now was no time to let his male ego get in the way. With a half-formed plan of getting to the bowels of the city and from there making their way to the surface, he realized they would need the credits. Standing with his arm around Sabyl's waist, he used his other hand to grab the strap as the lev started up again. The train was barely out of the station when a tall, fair-haired man crossed the narrow aisle and stopped. Leaning in as if he lost his balance the man said, "Goser Station. You'll be met there." He then straightened with an apologetic smile, "Sorry about that...hate these things."

Frowning, Darius watched the man as he moved away, before glancing to his wife, "Goser's almost on the other city of the city, outer perimeter, center tier." He remembered having to use that station while assigned to another mine briefly for training. The massive floating city was made up of layers and sections with the majority of daily life following an up and down course at its center. From the center the city grew outward in concentric rings on all three levels. Goser was as far from their usual living and working areas and still be on the city.

"Who do we trust," Sabyl asked quietly. "How would anyone know who we were or that we didn't want to be found." It wasn't a very likely place to look for either of them. Neither she nor Darius had any reason to go to Goser station. "The doctor didn't mention any other contacts."

"I don't know, but Goser is as good a place as any to head for," Darius responded, his brows still drawn together in a frown. "If there's a ghost town on Aleria, it's Goser."

"Then we go," Sabyl said with a nod. "We can get transport to the surface from there as easily as anywhere. On a plus side, CTU won't think to look for either of us there." She leaned into his side, still not quite able to believe that any of this was happening. Had it only been days since their life was as good as it could be for a Taino?

Once the mag-lev reached its final destination, Darius and Sabyl exited. Feeling rather silly for taking the extra precautions...after all this was not one of the insanely improbable scenarios shown on the entertainment holovids...Darius led them on and off several more trains. Finally, at a point where even he was feeling confused, he guided them to one of the multi-terminal stations, paused long enough to glance at the display that showed which lev they needed and mounted that train. It was just after mid-day. If Owynne had actually executed the warrant on them, then they were now fugitives and it would only be a matter of time before their images would be shown everywhere and their ID/Credit chips put on tracking alert.

With a shudder, the lev braked at Goser Station and opened its doors. A tinny voice announced it as the last stop as Darius with Sabyl's hand held fast in his exited the train. The man had said they would be met. Half expecting to see an armed troop of Counter-terrorist Unit officers heading their way, Darius guided them toward the lifts to the surface. They were with the next group to board a lift when a voice spoke low and urgently into Darius' ear, "Jagger? Follow me." Darius found himself facing a small, wiry built gray-haired woman. He glanced at Sabyl and shrugged.

As if heading for another set of lifts, their guide stopped as the next lev pulled into the station and disgorged a large number of passengers. As the swarming crowds dispersed toward the surface lifts and the train started back up to return the way it had come, their guide darted down a darkened corridor. Several yards in, she stopped and passed her hand over an inset door and grinned as it swished open, "Private lift. Hard to hack the sensor, but our techs are good." Once they were all within the confines of the lift, the woman held out her hand, "Name's Arzelia. I am not CTU and I'm not taking you to the CTU. While we're inside this car, I do need to rid you of any tracking devices." Arzelia reached out and waved her hand over another sensor and the lift car halted. Bright green eyes studied them for a moment, "You first, big guy. Don't want you to think I'm harming your lady."

Pulling a small took kit from inside her coat pocket, she unzipped it to display what appeared to be a set of tiny surgical tools. "Please hold," the older woman said to Sabyl and handed her the kit. Taking Darius hands, she gently pressed the back of each until she found what she was looking for. Picking up a tiny vial from the kit, she uncapped it, upended it, counted to five, and recapped it. Rubbing the thick blue liquid into the back of his hand, Arzelia explained, "Your credit chips will betray you sooner or later. The CTU doesn't have automatic access to their information unless the Commander thought to put in a warrant for that, but he won't be refused. We need to lose everything that could identify you. If we cannot get you safely to where you belong, then we will get you completely out of Aleria. Feel that?" Arzelia pinched the back of Darius' hand. When he shook his head, she reached into the kit for the tiny scalpel, "Local anesthetic. I'll get the disc out, patch you up. When we get to our destination, our medics there can zap the wounds closed."

Darius gave Sabyl a bemused glance. Maybe he had been wrong about that spy 'vid after all. "Look, I don't want to be rude, but _who_ the hell are you?"

"That's for the boss to tell you. We are _not_ TRM...exactly," Arzdelia answered, her lips pursed for a moment as she made the tiniest of slits in the back of his hand, grabbed the tweezers and extracted an impossibly thin, flat disc no bigger than her smallest fingernail. Dropping the disc to the floor, she stepped on it, smiled and looked up at Sabyl, "Next."

"You're not the Resistance." Well that was somewhat of a relief, although it would be incredibly ironic if they were sent into hiding with the very people they were accused of being. Sabyl held out her hand for the woman. "How did you know of us? How did you know about the warrant? We only found out because of..." She glanced at Darius while Arzdelia worked on removing her chip. "Well, a contact very close to the source." She didn't want to give Dr. Owynne up after what the woman risked for them. "I know we're full of questions, this is all just so very surreal to us. You said something earlier, though. What did you mean by getting us safely to where we belong? We've always lived in Aleria. We were both born here. As long as The Commander and his CTU teams are looking for us, we'll never be able to go home."

"Dear lady," Arzdelia said as she covered the wound, "your questions will be answered. We only want you safe...and order restored to our world. Unfortunately, that means the Exalted needs to be replaced...but that is not _your_ fight." Putting away her kit, she waved a hand over the sensor again and the lift resumed its trek to the surface. Before it arrived, however, she once again stopped it. Darius actually jumped as the panel behind them slid open instead of the door he was facing. The woman tipped her head and smiled, "I said we were not TRM, I didn't say we were legal."

With more misgivings than ever, Darius followed the small gray-haired woman from the lift and down a narrow, but surprisingly well lighted corridor. After a few yards, she turned down an adjacent corridor and stopped by another door. "This is rather an archaic way to get to our headquarters, but it's safe, trust me. It's a drop lift...a gravity well." Sliding the door into the wall, Arzdelia stepped into the open shaft. After a few seconds, she began slowly dropping out of sight.

Darius took a deep breath, "Have I mentioned I have a problem with heights?" A laugh floated up from below them. Giving Sabyl a rather pitiful look, Darius stepped into the shaft. Surprisingly, his weight was supported before there was a subtle shift and he began drifting downward. "Please...please don't let there be a blackout."

Sabyl's soft chuckle followed him as she stepped into the shaft and began her downward movement. "You'll be fine. When we get to the other end, I'll make it all better for you," she promised.

The shaft seemed to drop for quite some time before it finally stopped and Sabyl was suspended again. She stepped through another door, joining Darius and Arzdelia and took his hand. "That wasn't so bad, then?" She leaned forward and kissed him gently. They followed Arzdelia down another long tunnel. As they went, the tunnel began to widen, until it opened up into an antechamber. Arzdelia walked to the door at the center of the chamber and placed her hand on a control pad. It opened a second later and she stepped to one side to allow them entrance. Once they were inside and she behind them, the door was sealed again.

The area was well lit, and there were several tunnels breaking off from the chamber they now found themselves in. "This way." She led them to the left, and as they followed, they passed others who came and went. They were taken into what seemed to be a staging room. There were overhead computer displays, one which contained a schematic of the tunnels they'd just traveled through. A second appeared to be monitoring CTU operations, and a third was tuned toward current events. As they suspected, their images were being shown as wanted fugitives.

At the center of the room a tall, thin man stood, hands clasped behind him. He wore a simple brown tunic over dark pants. "You were fortunate to get below when you did," he said by way of greeting. "Your images went up at two minutes past Mid-Day." He pivoted back a half step and turned, to look on the pair of them himself. "I find it interesting you were warned before my people could get to you. There aren't many who would risk leaking information out of CTU, and even fewer who would do it for the Taino."

Unwilling to compromise Machelle Owynne, Darius turned his eyes from the displays to their host, "I find this entire situation..._interesting_..." he said quietly, "and very very odd. Not that we're ungrateful for this reprieve from Owynne's witch hunt...but who are you, why are we here?"

"To be put quite simply?" The man smiled at them. At one time, it might have been a pleasant expression. "Because this isn't _your_ fight. Not all is as it seems to be, Dr. Jackson. Major Carter." Clasping his hands behind him again, he walked around behind the desk. "Those are not names you remember, but in time you will. In time, I will explain everything to you. For now, be assured that you are among friends. As for Owynne's witch hunt..." He shook his head at Arzdelia's chuckle. "I suppose I was quite unyielding in my day. The man you, and the rest of the world, have come to know as Jerard Owynne is in fact not. He is a replacement. I know that, because I'm the man he replaced."

"I beg your pardon?" Sabyl folded her arms over her chest and exchanged a look with Darius. "Maybe you should start at the beginning." She was having a little trouble following his preposterous explanation.

"Perhaps I should at that. Why don't you have a seat. This is going to be quite a tale." He waved them into the pair of seats in front of the desk. The desk itself was bare, save a single framed photograph of a laughing redhead with vibrant green eyes and a grinning boy with dark locks. "Five years ago," he began, "I was involved in the Counter Terrorist Unit, we had just broken a rather large cell within the TRM. A day later, there was a bombing at the Upper-Center city school. I was still involved in interrogations. My wife, Machelle, was escorting our son Calyb to school that day. They both perished in the explosion. I am somewhat ashamed to admit that in my grief my tactics for interrogating suspected and known terrorists became rather well known. It was during my investigation into the bombing that I began to uncover some rather startling, and quite disturbing information. The school bombing and a shooting which had taken place a few months previously outside the Senate Quorum were not the work of terrorists at all. At least not those I was hunting. It was the work of men and women commissioned by the Exalted to instill fear and hatred into the hearts of the Realta and Waros against the Taino. Once I uncovered that, I quickly learned that it was the Exalted's primary goal to rid Raahe of all the Taino. Unfortunately I was not as discreet in my investigation as I should have been. The Exalted learned of my findings and arranged to have me eliminated, transferred to Mordros, from where I would never return. He and his aids, or henchmen if you would prefer, were unaware of friends and contacts that I had made among the Taino. Some of them even members of the TRM, although I was unaware of that at the time. I was transported to Mordros as planned, but during a supply transit, my friends managed to smuggle me back into Aleria. I then went underground, and began acquiring new contacts, and those loyal to our cause. Revealing the Exalted for what he really is and putting an end to his reign."

Darius stared at the man that claimed to be the real Jerard Owynne and his frown deepened, "You expect us to believe that you are the actual commander of the CTU and we're not Darius and Sabyl Jagger?" Shaking his head, he felt foolish for thinking anyone really wanted to help them escape. "I thought I watched too many thrillers."

"It is all very incredible isn't it?" He chuckled. "Perhaps we can remedy that." He slipped his hand into the neural interface. An overhead display appeared above the desk. "On the sixth floor of the State Hospital special research is being performed in the areas of memory and neural suggestion." He brought up the information, along with an image that was recorded of the off-worlders when they arrived. "This is you. Dr. Daniel Jackson, Major Samantha Carter, Dr. Madison Garman, and Colonel Jack O'Neill. The two other men are a warrior named Teal'c and a Captain Cameron Mitchell. They returned to Earth with, what they believe, are your remains. From what we've gathered, the it wasn't the questions you asked, or things that you saw. It was greed. The Exalted saw you as a means to his end. He wants to use you to control this world, then he plans on expanding. Your world provides the best alternative for that. With a single stone, the Exalted managed to complete several objectives. He gained each of you to use to his own end, and he managed to frame the TRM with the act. The Taino were not always as hated as they have become under his reign. There was distrust among the castes, that is to be expected, but now they are feared as well as hated."

"That doesn't explain _how_ it could be done," Sabyl stated, with some amount of impatience. This was all very elaborate to be a ruse, and she was still trying to discover the reasoning for it. Was the TRM planning on using them to strike back?

"It's called Memron. The Exalted has been utilizing it for many years. You're aware of the medical purpose and application for cloning. It's used for organ transplants and replacements among the Realta and the Waros. That science has moved well beyond organ replication and into that of complete humans. This isn't knowledge the Exalted would like made public. The Exalted has, to my knowledge, not left the palace in many, many years. A clone is sent in his stead, and once the appearance is completed, the clone's memories are downloaded for later use. It did not take much of a leap to discover this process could be reversed. That memories could be uploaded as well. They call it stamping. In the first several weeks it's very important to continue renewing those stamps, but they do eventually become permanent. The individual's original memories and personality are lost. Once someone has been placed where they're wanted, memory alteration therapy is used on those they come in contact with. It's a simple process. A drug derived from tanin gas is used on correlation with a subliminal suggestion. All someone need do is believe that they know you, and the rest is developed over time."

"No...no...I _know_ who I am," Darius protested despite the visual evidence in front of him. "I _remember_ my childhood, my parents, meeting Sabyl, our wedding. I remember various days' happenings at work. _I_ remember going with my mother to see my father before he was put down."

"Just as your Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Garman remember my life," Jerard said, and not unkindly. "The real Darius and Sabyl Jagger disappeared the same day you arrived here. It's possible they were sent to Mordros, or that they were murdered and their bodies disposed of. I'm not privy to that information, unfortunately, but what I do know is that you were both stamped with their memories. You are remembering their lives, as it occurred, for them. The difference with Colonel O'Neill is the inclusion of Doctor Garman as Machelle. In reality, my wife died in the explosion that killed our son. She is living Machelle's life, with all of her memories up to the moment that she died, the others were extrapolated from my own life and expanded upon based on what they would imagine her life to have been had she lived." Although it was bittersweet he smiled at them. "I know how you were warned. I know what my 'Chel would have done in your doctor's place."

She couldn't sit still any longer. Sabyl rose and began to pace. "This is completely preposterous. You expect us to believe that we're not the people that we think we are, and you're actually the man who has been after us so relentlessly - except that you're helping us now?" She shook her head at him. "How are we supposed to trust you? To trust any of this?"

"In good time, Major. Your memory stamps are still very new," he explained. "Without access to you to have them renewed, they are going to begin to degrade. Your real memories will return."

"How long?" Darius held a hand out to his distraught..._wife_...and his heart dropped. If this man was telling the truth, then Sabyl was _not_ his wife. For a moment, he looked away and swallowed hard. "How long before our memories start returning...presuming you're telling the truth?"

Arzdelia finally broke her silence. Her eyes and voice were kind as she tapped the dark haired man's hand, "Nils, this is a lot for them to take in." She smiled gently, "The stamps degrade rather rapidly. Within a few hours you should start remembering...I'm surprised you're not already getting flashes."

"Nils?" Rising to his feet, Darius backed up toward Sabyl, "I thought he said his _real_ name was Jerard Owynne?"

"Peace, Taino," Arzdelia said softly, using a common greeting. "The commander had to become someone else in order to continue our work here."

Darius did not relax, "So...again..._why_...if you're not lying through your teeth are you aiding us?"

"Because," Arzdelia said, "as my son said, this is _not_ your fight. We want to return you to your home and then it is to us to bring down the Exalted and expose him for the vile creature he is...peacefully if we can."

Nils smiled with some affection at the small, gray haired woman. "Nils Harynn," he told them. "That is the name that I took once I came into hiding. It would be impossible for me to continue my work as Jerard Owynne was believed eliminated. Not without putting those who risked much to bring me back here in great amounts of danger. You have been caught in the web of something that is not your making. If the evil is to be cleansed from our world, we are the ones to do it." He removed the glove and rose gracefully. "My mother is correct. You have absorbed quite a lot this afternoon. You will be given quarters in which to rest, as well as refreshment."

This could not truly be happening. Sabyl gazed at Darius. If it was true, then they were living a lie. Everything about their life was a lie. A single question at the back of her mind gave her pause, however. If the Realta scientists could give them memories, how could they create emotions? She knew what she _felt_ and memories or no, that was real to her.

"Come, my dears," Arzdelia pointed toward the door, "eat, rest, and let the knowledge we've given you have time to find its place within you. If, when we met again in a few hours, you do not believe us, if your memories have yet to start returning and you want to leave, we will try to find you a safe haven on the surface."

Sabyl reached for Darius's hand as they followed. She squeezed it tightly and walked as closely with him as she could. She did not know which _truth_ she wanted to believe, but she knew to the deepest part of her being that she could not stand the idea of losing him.

Arzdelia opened a door off the corridor, "It's not large, but it is comfortable. Your dinner has been delivered." She pointed to covered trays sitting on round table off to one side. The bed was large and piled with blankets. The older woman smiled gently, "It gets cold in here at night. We cannot afford to give off too much of a heat signature and rely mostly on the lights to warm up the area. Being underground helps...less fluctuation." She stopped and looked at them, tilting her head to one side, "Do not fear losing one another. Feelings can and do survive the degradation of the stamps." Stepping back she let the door close. Darius moved close and listened but could detect no sign of the door locking. Placing one hand against the sensor, he lifted an eyebrow as it slid slightly open. Taking his hand away he watched as it whispered shut.

"Well, we're not prisoners," Darius stated as he walked toward the table. Stopping half way, he altered his direction and took a seat on the bed. Holding his arms out, he smiled at Sabyl, "This just keeps getting better and better."

"We don't know that they're telling us the truth." She went into his arms and seated herself on his lap. Her own wound around his neck. "If it's true, then we have lives to get back to, but..." Would that mean losing one another? "If it's not, we're still wanted fugitives. I don't know which to hope for, but I don't want to lose this." She tucked her face against his neck and inhaled the familiar, comforting scent. She wished she knew what they'd done to deserve this uncertainty.

It was late when Jerard Owynne let himself in the door of his elegant Echelon mansion. He was still quivering with rage. The unthinkable had actually happened. The Jaggers had slipped through one of the biggest cordons the CTU had ever set-up. They left their home that morning and by mid-day had totally disappeared. Their ID chips had registered briefly, but then they too had disappeared. To say that Jerard had had a bad day was an understatement. There was no way the Jaggers had managed the escape unaided. They had been tipped off and then helped to evade the CTU. His units had spent the day chasing down false sightings of the Taino couple.

After her meeting with Sabyl Jagger, Machelle made certain to go about her day as normally as possible. She had a luncheon with a pair of friends, she went shopping, and when she returned home she began setting the stage for a romantic dinner. It was all meant convince her husband that nothing at all out of the ordinary happened that day. It was also her hope that with the Jaggers now beyond Jerard's reach, he might in time focus his attentions elsewhere. That, she hoped again, would help her to reach him, as he was utterly obsessed with the couple.

She heard him when he entered, and knew that he would be in a foul mood, but it didn't stop her. She made her way slowly down the staircase that sloped around the front foyer. "Jerard," her smile was bright and loving, that at least was not forced. "I was beginning to wonder if you would make it home for dinner. I made your favorite. I thought since our day was interrupted, we could make an evening of it."

Owynne was prepared to snap his disinterest in dinner, but then, he looked in 'Chel's loving eyes. He had been so cold to her recently as more and more information on the Jaggers came to light...at least on Darius. The woman seemed clean, but she was a key to getting Jagger himself. The two had been a couple since their late teens and married more than fifteen years. Crossing the room, he pulled her into his arms and bent his head to capture her lips. Savoring the kiss, the taste of her, he let his hands roam down her back to her buttocks and pulled her closer. Finally, he broke the kiss, "Can dinner be reheated?"

"It can," hope soared. She did not expect to pull him out of his dark mood so easily. Her bright eyes sparkled up at him with love and devotion. Any doubts that remained at her actions faded away completely. Her hands slipped up his arms and over shoulders that held such strength. He still bore the tension of the day, her hands began to knead gently. "You work too hard, Jer. I spent a full day pampering myself, lets see how well I can pamper you now."

Briefly, suspicion flared in his mind, and he hesitated. Machelle had taken a liking to the Taino couple. Was there any chance that...? He watched her swaying form as she turned and headed up the stairs to their bedroom. Surely not...she would never betray him like that... Trotting up the stairs, he caught up with her for another long kiss before reaching the landing and led her to their bed.


	7. Out of the Night

The headache pounding out a rhythm behind her eyes was the first indication that something was not quite right. Sam didn't move. She had learned the hard way that waking up with a hangover could only be made worse by moving too soon. As sleep induced fog began to roll its way out of her brain, memories of the previous few days began to resurface. For three days she had been underground, under the care and protection of Nils Harynn's people. The memories they were told to expect to return came slowly, evidence of just how much effort had gone into the memory stamps. At first there were just flashes, nothing they could put name to, and neither of them willing to believe it. Last night they discussed leaving, taking their chances on the surface of the planet and avoiding the CTU without aid. But with each new flash of memory came the fear of what was slipping away from them. Last night had been a reaffirmation for Sabyl and Darius. A very passionate, unbridled, reaffirmation of what would never be taken away from them.

Carter's eyes popped open. She was laying in bed, naked, next to an equally naked Daniel. "Oh crap!" She rolled quickly away from him, and in her attempt to pull the sheet around her naked form, she tumbled right off the bed. "Ow."

Daniel had been laying very still, hoping the little drummer boy would quit...or learn a new tune. Movement next to him, followed by words, and then a solid thump caused him to slit open his eyes, realize the room was dark...they were far underground after all...and pat the bed. Memories began cascading through his mind. Images of SG-1, Jack, Sam, himself in the mines...Sabyl...Sam. Daniel shot upright and for a moment thought he was dead as the little drummer boy went nuts in his brain. Reaching across the bed to find the other side empty, he rolled to the edge trying to keep wrapped in the remains of the bed clothes, "Sam?" His hand flailed in the dark, finally smacking her in back of the head. "Oh...sorry. Light...we need light."

"Yes. Light would be good." Her voice sounded odd. It quivered slightly. She reached up, fumbling around on the table beside the bed until her hand passed over the light sensor. "Big mistake." She closed her eyes as the room was flooded with light. Sam rolled onto her back, an arm thrown over her eyes and continued to shake with what appeared to be laughter. What began as giggles at finding herself in the ridiculous position of laying naked on a cold, concrete floor in the dark, quickly became guffaws.

Eyelids slammed shut at the invasion of light and he let out an aggrieved _owww_. Sam's laughter became infectious and Daniel chuckled in response. Through the pounding of his head, a sense of loss passed through him. His memories as Darius and his life with Sabyl were crystal clear and rapidly integrating with his real memories...those of Daniel Jackson and all that went with that. Along with those memories was another realization, one that he should have acknowledged many years ago. Of course Darius had loved Sabyl with every fiber of his being. It was how Daniel felt for Sam. How he had felt for a good many years, but had chosen to deny it because of a belief that she would never feel the same for him, that her love was meant for someone else. Slitting his eyes back open, he glanced over the side of the bed making no effort to keep the feelings out of his expressive blue eyes, "Sam? Care to join me back up here?"

"In a minute." She forced herself to sober up by taking deep breaths and looked up at him with eyes that still glistened with mirth. "Sorry," she said. "I just realized that I have three PhDs, and I am still the dumbest woman I know. Not to mention this floor is really cold." Sam continued to gaze up at him without moving. "Then I made the mistake of imagining the look on General Hammond's face when he reads this report." Her head was still pounding so she sat up slowly and reached out a hand so he could pull her up.

Daniel's smile mirrored the one she would have become familiar with from Darius...full of warmth, love, light. There should be awkwardness between them, but Daniel could not feel that way. Having Sam in his life in this manner just seemed so _right...so perfect._ There would be issues with both of them remaining on SG-1, but he did not care. After this, everything else seemed such an insubstantial hurdle...except for getting Jack and Dr. Garman back. That hit him with another alarming round of pain to the head. Pulling Sam up and into bed next to him, he lay back with her stretched out along his six-foot length. Reaching up, he ran his hands through her short, tousled, so utterly feminine hair, "Before we have to go face all this, find Jack, make sure he doesn't kill us and all that... I don't want _this_ to end. I don't want _us_ to end. I love you, Sam...I've probably loved you longer than I should have."

"That's what I was laying on the floor thinking about," she admitted. "I can't believe how much in denial I was." She laid her head on his shoulder and her own words from the previous days returned. They could plant the memories, but they could not fake the emotions. It was all there, from the very beginning. Sabyl loved Darius with the same fierceness that Sam felt for Daniel. It was all so very clear now, she couldn't believe how muddled it was before. "Daniel." She lifted her head so she could see into the brilliant blue eyes she loved so dearly. "I love you. I'm an idiot for not realizing it sooner."

"Not any more than I was," Daniel replied, his voice warm with affection. He pulled her down for a kiss and felt his body's reaction to having her near him. Laughter filled the often chilly blue eyes, "Jack and Dr. Garman...they're in no immediate danger...right?"

Sam's eyes widened at his intention. They moved down his form, and while the corners of her mouth twitched, she wouldn't allow herself to smile just yet. "Dr. Jackson, I am shocked! Our friends are stuck on an alien planet with no memory of who they are, and you want to have your way with me?" Her blue eyes were dancing when they met his again. "Well... They'll be okay for a little while longer."

Daniel leaned back, keeping as much to the shadows as possible. It had taken a couple of hours to verify that Jerard Owynne was at CTU headquarters and deeply engaged in hunting him and Sam. After a long conference with Nils and Arzdelia, Sam and Daniel had concluded they needed to approach Dr. Garman first. If they could get her to consider the possibilities of the situation, they could make a break for the SGC and return with a larger team to apprehend Jack-Jerard. There was one other really big issue facing them over and above getting both Garman and Jack home...their GDOs. No doubt, even with them, their codes would have been changed or locked out. With the SGC believing them dead, it was only logical. On top of that, Raahe's stargate was in a very, very public place. No doubt the stargate's courtyard was crawling with CTU and other state police agents.

At long last the area was clear even of the casual passerby. Moving out of the shadows, Daniel and Sam mounted the steps to the veranda. Taking a deep breath, Daniel rapped on the door before tapping the door alert, "Dr. Owynne, we need to talk to you."

Machelle's heart stopped beating for several seconds. It took her seconds longer to convince herself that she was actually hearing Darius Jagger's voice in her home. The door was quickly opened and she stared at the pair. "Have you both lost your minds? Jerard has men looking all over Aleria for you. If you get caught... here of all places..." It wasn't only themselves that they were risking. Aside from being stubbornly driven to find them, these last few days Jerard had been more like his old self. She was even considering approaching the topic of another child with him. Machelle's eyes darted nervously behind them, checking to see if they'd been noticed. "Inside." She practically shoved them through the door.

Sam glanced at Daniel. "We're very sorry," she began. "I realize we're putting you in a very difficult position, but we wouldn't be here if it wasn't supremely important."

"If any of your husband's men show up, this is a potential hostage situation, so we need you to listen to us with a very open mind," Daniel's voice was strong and firm but in no way threatening. "As far as losing our minds...no...actually we just regained them." He led them deeper into the Owynne's house, instinctively heading toward the kitchen where they had quick access to the rear exit. Stopping by the counter, he reached into a leather carry-all slung over his shoulder to retrieve a stack of photographs which he then laid out on the counter's surface...SG-1 arriving on Raahe accompanied by one tall, attractive brunette...Dr. Madison Garman. Stepping back, he waved at the pictures, "Please look at those...look very closely."

It was impossible. Machelle touched the edge of one of the photographs. "Where... how did you get these?" Darius and Sabyl were present in the images, as well as Jerard, and two men she did not recognize. They wore the uniforms of the off-worlders. "What is this," she hissed.

"It's us," Sam said gently. "None of us were who we thought we were. Once Daniel and I were out of the city our memories returned. We weren't here for the Exalted's men to take us for stamp renewal. That's what they call it."

"No," Machelle whispered. "That's not possible. That process has never been tested. It's theoretical at best. Testing it on humans is years away."

"Obviously, it's not years away, Dr. _Garman_. Jerard Owynne is dead, Machelle Owynne was killed along with the Owynne's son in a school bombing perpetrated by agents of the Exalted in order to set harder feelings against the TRM and the Taino. This conspiracy goes to the top, Doc." Daniel's eyes and voice softened, "And I think I know why _Jerard_ is melting down...it's because back home, on Earth, he really did lose his son. It's bleeding through, messing with him. We've got to get him...you...us...home before there's permanent damage...or he does something the man he really is cannot live with."

"You're lying," Machelle said quietly, "or you've been lied to." She swept the images out of her sight and turned away. "I know who I am. There are no gaps in my memory. What you're suggesting is impossible, and that I would actually believe you?" She shook her head at them as she backed away. "I remember _everything_ about my life, and you're wrong about Jerard. He's searching for you, but... lately he's been more like himself. He's been loving and kind... not nearly as distant as he was before. I'm getting the man I married back and you want me to believe that it's all a lie? How could I possibly begin to believe you when everything is so clear and vivid. Even if the technology has been used, there's no way they could provide this level of stamp." She clasped her hands against her chest. "I _know_ Jerard. I remember the night that I met him. He was charming and funny, and oh so cocky. He drove me insane, I couldn't stand him at first. But he was persistent and... I fell in love with this bright, wonderful man. Memories are just... pieces of the past, stamping cannot create how that _felt. _I know what I feel for my husband," she said emphatically, and it isn't something that's been faked." Machelle walked around the kitchen, her mind a whirl of different memories and emotions. "I can still remember the look on his face the day I told him we were going to have a child. I know what it felt like to have him hold me." She twisted around to stare at the couple who were attempting to unravel a lifetime's worth of memories. "I know how it _felt_ to be pregnant, to carry Calyb, to give birth to him. I held my baby in my arms the first seconds of his life and I know what it _felt_ like to hold his body the day that he died. How can someone create that?"

Sam's heart ached for the pain her friend was being caused by the memories she'd been given. Madison didn't have children, had never been married. She had spent her career moving through third world countries helping those who did not have readily available medical care. "I'm sorry," she said gently. Carter walked around the center island to take the doctor's hands. "I know how this seems. I didn't want to believe it either. I knew what it felt like to spend fifteen years married to a man I adore, but the reality is that Daniel and I are not married. That's something I've lost. I remember both lives. Sabyl is a part of me now, but I _know_ that I am Samantha Carter. We have no reason to lie to you. It doesn't serve any purpose beyond getting all of us back to our real home." She reached for the image of SG-1 with the doctor. "This is who you are. A trauma surgeon and a member of the same organization that we belong to. We can't force you to believe us, but if you want to save _Jerard_ then we have to get home."

Daniel gathered the other photos and stowed them back into the carry all. They could not risk leaving them to be found. "Dr. Garman, _Jack O'Neill_ is the man you're describing...the bright, funny, and even wonderful man that you _remember._ And you two have taken delight in snipping at one another since planning for this mission began. But something about the stamp, about Jerard Owynne, is driving him insane with anger, resentment, loss. I'm sure the real Commander Owynne was very similar in lots of ways...I think that's how they chose the personalities to replicate in us." For now they had to let the real Jerard Owynne remain dead. Trying to explain how they came by the knowledge they had might muddy the waters too much. "If we've calculated correctly, you and Jack will be taken for a stamp update tonight. We need to make a break for the Stargate before that can happen."

"If you're wrong…" Machelle didn't have to tell them what could happen. They would be arrested, and it was very likely she would be as well. "I can't say that I believe you." She folded her arms over her chest and took a step away from the woman that was now calling herself Samantha Carter. "But something makes me want to trust you, has since the moment we met at the hospital. I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt," she decided. "For now." Machelle swept a hand through her dark hair and paced around the kitchen again. "What is your plan?"

Good! The initial hurdle had been overcome. Madison was willing to listen and consider they might be telling the truth. "Ideally," Daniel said, "we need to all get to the stargate and cross through to Earth. Once there, it should only be a matter of hours before the memory stamp starts degrading. It's taken Sam and I about three days to get all our memories sorted and become functional again. I can promise you a horrific headache." He moved to stand in front of Garman, "The trick will be capturing Jack...Jerard without anymore...especially him...being harmed. I feel certain if Sam and I are spotted around the 'Gate courtyard at the Forum, he'll come himself to apprehend us...at least that's our hope."

Pausing for a moment, Daniel took a deep breath and continued, "There's another big wrinkle. The people we were contacted by, the ones that gave us sanctuary and told us what has happened, were unable to get our original gear. Likely it was incinerated with our blank clones. The Stargate on our side is protected by a shield that is opened by a code. We do not have the devices to send that code so it's a huge risk going through. We're going to have to take it on faith that the SGC will give us the benefit of the doubt and let us through. There's a better than even chance we'll be taken into custody on the other side until they can verify our identities."

"So we'll either be arrested here, or arrested there. The only thing we know for certain is that we'll be arrested." Machelle rolled her eyes at them. "I for one feel so much better," She said dryly.

Carter smirked. She was sounding more like the Doctor they knew. "Well, at least once we get there clearing it up will be a lot easier than dealing with it here. Fairly certain we'll be executed or sent to Mordros."

"You're not making me feel any better," Machelle informed them. She thought through their options for several moments. "I'll meet you at the Stargate. Jerard will not act rashly if I'm present."

"Well...there is that whole splat like a bug on the windshield thing if the SGC fails to open the iris. We've been given a radio that the guys in the military here use. Sam thinks she's gotten it set to the SGC's frequencies, but unknown if it'll reach them or if they can verbally respond to us. Leap of faith." Daniel added, "potentially short leap." Swinging back to Madison, he gave her an impulsive hug, "Don't count on Jerard acting rationally. He's being manipulated on a level that is hard to understand or imagine. The man he really is has lived through ten kinds of hell over the last many years."

"Perhaps," Machelle said. "But asking me to believe the worst of the man I'm married to – whether that is real or not is asking more than I'm prepared to do at this time. Whether my memories are mine or are, as you've said, been planted for some darker purpose, he is my husband. You may know Jack O'Neill, but I know Jerard. I want to believe that I can reach him."

"We can understand that. Just be ready to act if it goes the other way." Sam glanced at the chronometer they'd been given. "Shift change at the CTU," she told Daniel. "We should go. We'll need to slip into place during the break in the security patrols."

Commander Jerard Owynne exited the CTU headquarters and stopped to look around. It was late, far later than usual and the forum was mostly deserted. Most of a week had passed and there had been no sign of the Jaggers. He had managed to rein in his more extreme reactions when home allowing himself to only focus on work when at the CTU. It was a charade of monumental proportions as apprehending Darius Jagger occupied the majority of his waking thoughts. Most of the day was spent staring at the images of the man and the school bombing that had been sent him. So desperate was he to destroy Jagger and thus get a degree of closure for his slaughtered son, Jerard no longer cared if the man was actually arrested and had issued shoot on sight orders if the man did not immediately surrender...the woman too. His sleep had been riddled with the nightmares of reliving the bombing at the school...seeing Jagger's gloating face in the crowds.

Things had been better between him and Machelle in recent days. She had met his efforts to leave his work behind more than half way and the gleam of happiness that always lurked in her alluring blue eyes had returned. She seemed to have lost all interest in the Jaggers. _So much for their attempt to turn her against him...make her betray him_, Jerard thought as he made his way toward the courtyard. 'Chel's kind and compassionate nature had been drawn in by the act the couple had put on. No doubt their intention had been to cloud the air between him and Machelle, distract him from his objective...justice for Calyb. He rolled his shoulders and tried to ease the tension and stepped out from the shadows into the courtyard.

Pressed into the shadows of a tall building, Sam and Daniel waited for their moment. Once he stepped into the dim lighting which surrounded the forum, Sam laid a hand on Daniel's shoulders. It was the first time they'd laid eyes on O'Neill and actually known him. With their memories returned, they could clearly see the effect this was having on him. They would need to tread carefully. They both knew perfectly well how deadly he could be when he felt threatened by an enemy. It was simply a matter of convincing him that they weren't. If that was even possible now.

Moving quietly, Sam signaled Daniel to head in the opposite direction. They would need to approach him from two different sides. The plan was for Carter to get the drop on him, while he was distracted by Daniel, and use a taser to incapacitate him. If they could manage to knock O'Neill-Jerard out, for even a few precious minutes, it would give them the time they needed to dial the gate and contact the SGC. This all hinged on Carter's being able to get to him, and of course on Machelle Owynne not experiencing any last minute guilt-ridden change of heart. The doctor would be arriving momentarily, and Carter was keenly aware that she could make or break all of their plans.

Daniel followed Sam's unspoken orders, slipping from shadow to shadow to get into position. In the hours since meeting with Dr. Garman, they had refined their plans. Arzdelia had provided them with a couple of rather archaic tasers as well as the local version of handguns and two of the communicators. If all went to plan, Sam would work herself close enough to Jack to use the taser, they would gather up Machelle-Madison and make for the stargate. Their fall-back plan, if they could not make it to capture Jack without getting themselves hurt...or hurting him...was to take Madison and go. With luck, Jerard would follow his wife. Worst case, they would have to return with a team and do a retrieval. The only base not covered was the SGC itself. They each had a communicator that Sam had modified to the best of her ability to work on the SGC's frequencies, but would have no real way of knowing if the SGC would hear them or give them benefit of the doubt long enough to open the iris.

Reaching into the pocket of the jacket he wore, also supplied by Arzdelia and her Resistance to the Resistance as she jokingly called their group, he felt the taser. The cool metal fit comfortably in his hand, conforming to the curve of his palm. Unfortunately, the stunners were not very powerful and the user had to be almost on top of the target for it to be effective. Sam was an expert at hand-to-hand. If she could get close enough, even if the taser failed to knock Jack out, she could finish the job. The guns were truly a last resort. The one that rested at the small of Daniel's back reminded him of the potential deadliness of the situation. The guns were about the size of a standard Earth .9mm, but their power was far greater as was their range. From what Daniel comprehended from their twenty minute _how it works_ lesson, the weapon's closest parallel on Earth were the massive rail guns mounted on the _Prometheus._ The Raahe rail gun fired small projectiles very similar to bullets, but due to the weapon's technology, each shot caused twice the damage of their Earth counterpart.

They had pulled off missions in the past against much higher odds, but rarely with so much at stake.

The sense of something not quite right stopped Owynne in his tracks at the edge of the great courtyard. It was late. In the distance he could hear the footsteps of the security patrol echoing throughout the corridors of the Forum. The moon was in its dark phase. The only light filtered from the decorative lighting at the edge of the courtyard and from its centrally set fountain. The fountain was massive and its cascading waters near deafening in the silence. The Forum's transit station lay just beyond the courtyard. To reach it one crossed the courtyard, past the stargate, and on to the lift tubes masked behind ornate columns on the far side. The other option was to continue past the lift tubes to stairs that led to a set of mag-lifts, escalators, and stairs. Shrugging off the uneasy feeling, Jerard stepped out into the courtyard and started for the far side.

Carter waited, heart tapping out a rapid rhythm against her chest. She slowed her breathing and narrowed her eyes. He took a step, and then another. When he was only a few meters from her location, she slowly wrapped her hand around the taser and pulled it from within her vest. Another second, the space of several heartbeats, and then a second, and a third. He grew closer, and by some trick or grace of luck, still had not seen her - or if he had, he wasn't giving any indication of it. When O'Neill-Owynne was within striking range, Sam leaped out of her hiding place. Her leg snapped out, sweeping his feet from beneath him. She put him down before he could draw his weapon and placed the taser against his neck, firing where it would have more, and faster affect.

Simultaneously with Sam's moves, Daniel darted for the DHD. Neither of them had forgotten the security patrol and they really wanted to be gone before it made its way back to the courtyard. Neither Sam nor Daniel had any real desire to harm anyone on Raahe despite what had been done to them. Quickly, Daniel dialed the SGC and stood ready counting off the brief seconds it took for the wormhole to connect. Raising the communicator so it had a clear line to the stargate, he thumbed its talk switch and spoke rapidly, "Daniel Jackson to Stargate Command. Repeat, this is Daniel Jackson of SG-1. Please open the iris as we're coming in hot." Daniel paused and then repeated his message watching the indicator on the communicator show that a message was being sent. Whether it reached its target or not, they could not know.

**Stargate Command, Gate Control Room**

General George Hammond stood behind Walter Harriman, watching with a frown on his face as the stargate rumbled to life. "Who's due back, Sergeant?"

Harriman shook his head, "No one..." His hands flew over the keyboard, "but we're getting a voice message, not an IDC."

"Let's hear it, son," Hammond's deep voice rumbled.

_"Daniel Jackson to Stargate Command. Repeat, this is Daniel Jackson of SG-1. Please open the iris as we're coming in hot."..."Repeat, Daniel Jackson to Stargate Command, arrest us on sight if you need to, but please open the iris...bug...windshield...ewwwwww."_

For a heartbeat there was complete silence in Gate Control. Hammond blinked and his hand fell on Harriman's shoulder, "We've got to take the chance. Open the iris." Leaning over, the General thumbed the intercom to the Gateroom, "Unidentified visitors coming through, possible friendlies, safeties on, but stand ready to detain."

Daniel raced to Sam's side and flashed her a smile. Catching hold of one of Jack's arms while Sam took the other, they dragged him close to the dais. Daniel glanced at Sam and muttered, "Doc's been fixing him too many good meals," he grunted before stepping aside to send another quick, desperate message to the SGC informing them they were preparing to step into the stargate. He looked around, hoping to see Machelle.

Jerard moaned softly as the taser induced paralysis faded. He had retained enough cognizance to know who his attackers were and to stay silent as mobility returned. Moving faster than a man his age had any right too, Owynne shot to his feet and pulled his sidearm with one fluid motion bringing it to bear on Sabyl Jagger. "This ends...here...now...tonight," he ground out.

Spinning at the sound of the man's voice, Daniel's face paled as he saw the weapon pointed at Sam's head. "No! Jack...Owynne...Don't. I'll surrender. Let her go..." Raising his hands, Jackson started toward O'Neill.

Blinded by rage and old grief, Owynne swung around. Reason fled as he saw his son's murderer and he pressed the firing stud, smiling grimly as the first of several shots hit his target. Walking forward as he fired, the world went black for Owynne. All that mattered was hurting...destroying the ones that had destroyed his life, his entire world...his son. Darius Jagger lay still and unmoving, Owynne brought the weapon to bear on the woman standing on the dais over the downed man's body...

"Jer!" That was the unfortunate scene that Machelle Owynne arrived in time to witness. Her husband gunning down a man preparing to surrender. "Stop this, now." She strode toward the dais, horror and shock vying for control of her emotions.

"We're no threat to you." Sam kept glancing at Daniel, silently willing him to move, to give her some indication that he was still alive, in spite of the blood that was now soaking through the front of his shirt. She felt each shot that hit him go right through her very being. "We just want to go home. We're not who you think we are. Please. Sir. Just let me help him. Let me take him home." It wasn't in her to plead, but looking at Daniel again, rapidly paling in the shadows where he'd fallen, tears quickly filled her eyes. Her gaze flew to Machelle. "Help him, please."

Owynne barely took his eyes off the Taino woman long enough to glance at his _wife_. Watching her stand indecisively between him, the fallen man, and the woman. "You would betray me for _them?_ Taino murderers," Jerard spat the words out. Curling his lip in disdain, he raised the gun toward his target. "We're done here."

"Yes, we are." Sam was not prepared to allow Daniel to die without a fighting chance. While he was distracted by the appearance of his wife she brought her handgun around and fired twice in quick succession, both shots hitting the shoulder of his gun hand and effectively disabling it. She watched, dread and sickness curling in her belly as he was spun around by the shots and slowly dropped. "Doctor!" Sam took three quick steps and dropped beside Daniel.

For several long, heart wrenching seconds Machelle was frozen where she stood. Her first instinct was to go to her husband, but she heard him groan. He was alive, if in some amount of pain. The sound of the Taino woman calling for her again shook her out of her stupor and she hurried toward the more gravely injured man. "We need to get him to a medical facility, but if you're found here you'll be shot on sight. They'll execute both of you." She began pulling open open Daniel's vest and ripping at the shirt beneath. There were three distinct gunshot wounds.

"Through the gate," Sam told her. She fumbled for the radio with blood soaked hands. "Stargate Command this is Major Carter. We need a Medical Team in the gateroom. Repeat, medical team in the gateroom, we're coming in with injured." Voice shaking, she barely paused long enough to make sure the radio was transmitting before she tossed it aside and slipped an arm under one of Daniel's.

The shots had been heard by the security patrol. The sound of running footfalls grew steadily closer. They wouldn't have long before they were completely surrounded. Machelle curled an arm under his other side and together the two women began dragging him toward the gate.

Pain and shock had taken its toll on Jerard. For a few vital seconds, he totally lost consciousness, and then sounds and feeling filtered back in. He levered himself up with his left hand to see his wife and the Taino dragging Darius to the stargate. As they disappeared into the event horizon, Jerard lunged to his feet and charged the event horizon, roaring with rage as his quarry slipped from his grasp and at the betrayal by the one person he thought he could count on to death and beyond.

In the shadows, Nils Harryn...aka Jerard Owynne...spoke quietly, "Blessed be...may you find the peace I was finally granted." Turning, he glided deeper into the shadows. In a matter of moments, he was joined by that night's security patrol and Arzdelia. He gave a nod of recognition to the two men and his mother. "Time to reclaim what's ours, my friends. May death not walk with us tonight."


	8. Into the Light

Controlled chaos reigned in the Gateroom as General Hammond entered through the blast doors. The SFs stood, weapons to the ready, faces confused as two women, covered in blood, stepped through the stargate, desperately wrangling a man's body between them. They made it part way down the ramp when the doors opened again to admit the Emergency Medical Response team led by Janet Fraiser. As Hammond opened his mouth to ask for O'Neill the stargate rippled again and disgorged a man, bloodied on the right shoulder, whose face twisted in rage and confusion. He lunged forward, snarling, only to be gently but firmly halted by several SFs that moved up the ramp and took a stance between him and the others.

Unsure of the exact situation, Hammond barked out, "Halt...let the EMRTs in, escort the rest to the Infirmary under guard." He turned blue eyes to Carter, "I'd say welcome home, Major, but I really need to know what the hell is going on first."

"Sir." Carter relinquished Daniel into Janet's care, but with a great amount of reluctance. "I'd say it's good to be home, but under the circumstances..."

Machelle didn't know the other physician, but by this point instinct had kicked in. She helped roll Daniel onto a backboard and was still working on him as he was lifted onto a stretcher. The other medical staff appeared to anticipate this, and her movements before she made them. "Three gunshot wounds," she said. "Upper torso, lost consciousness at the scene, hasn't regained." She took a pressure dressing when it was passed into her hand and placed it over a gushing chest wound.

The petite CMO would have liked to have asked what the hell was going on and how SG-1 came to be in the gateroom when they were supposedly dead, but there was no time for that at present. "Bag him," she called, already covering a wound that might have caused damage to his liver. They wouldn't know the extent of the internal damage until they had him on the table.

"No pulse," one of the techs said. "Beginning CPR."

"No time," Machelle said. "Too much damage around the heart. I need a thoracotomy kit." It wasn't exactly a sterile operating room, but it would have to suffice. A pair of gloves and a scalpel were passed into her hands without question or hesitation. In seconds she had the scalpel poised and was drawing a thin red line horizontally below Daniel's left pectoral. It was a bit more primitive than she was accustomed to, and yet, at the same time it felt incredibly comfortable. It was as though she'd done this before. She didn't recall it, but muscle memory was taking over. Once the incision was made, Machelle pulled it open and began cutting through tissue and muscle. Then she swung up onto the gurney and slipped her hand into his chest. She could feel the damage to the aorta, but wrapped her fingers gently around his heart and began to squeeze a beat every second. "Move."

Carter watched them go, and for a moment her feet felt like lead. She wanted to follow, but the General was still looking at her, waiting for an answer. "The Raahe use a memory stamping technology. They cloned our remains, stamped our memories, and placed us into different lives. Dr. Garman was still a doctor, but she doesn't know _who_ she is. Colonel O'Neill thinks he's a member of the State Police Counter-Terrorism Unit, and that Daniel and I are terrorists. The Exalted was behind all of it. The Resistance isn't what he's presented it to be. Members of another Resistance movement were able to help Daniel and I. Our memories are intact, along with those planted by the Raahe. Our deaths were faked."

Throughout Carter's report, EMTs and one of the junior doctors had been attending O'Neill. The sound of a second gurney had Hammond stepping aside as they rushed O'Neill toward the Infirmary. The General tagged one of the medics to give a low-voiced warning to keep O'Neill under guard until otherwise notified. Too many years, too many bizarre incidents and adventures kept George Hammond from outright dismissing anything Carter said. He was alarmed that the woman with Dr. Jackson's life literally in her hands might be suffering from some sort of mind control or alteration, but he trusted his people and trusted that Fraiser would be watching like the Mother Hawk she was. His eyes were kind as he looked at the woman that had come to mean as much as a daughter to him, "Go with the SFs, Major Carter. I will be along shortly."

"Yes sir. Thank you, Sir." Carter turned to the SFs and lifted her arms so that she could be checked for weapons and disarmed before allowed out of the gateroom. She was flanked as they left, following the direction that the others had gone.

Once in the infirmary, Carter was waved onto a gurney, with the two SFs standing guard. There was no sign of Daniel, and she knew realistically that he would have already been taken into the O.R. for triage and surgery. Her shoulders slumped beneath the weight of it all. Daniel shot, shooting the Colonel. She understood the necessity of it, but that did not prevent her from feeling badly. She worried for Daniel, concern warring with grief, and she worried for the Colonel. He would blame himself, despite what was done to them on Raahe. Of everything they'd all been through, all the past missions, the near-misses, Daniel's death and ascension. Sam was beginning to wonder if any of them would truly be able to _come back_ from this one.

Hammond entered the Infirmary and followed the sounds of activity to find Nurse Amelia Dragon checking Major Carter over. From a few beds down, he could hear O'Neill giving everyone around him hell. Seems that whether the man was himself or not, he was still a pain in the posterior on a good day. Suddenly the noise ceased and he looked down the aisle to see Dr. Angela Brightman stepping away from O'Neill's bed with a wicked smile on her face and a hypodermic needle in her hand. She came up to the bed where Dragon was finishing up taking blood samples and other readings before exiting the area. Brightman smiled at the silent general and stepped to Carter's side. "Good to see you home and well, ma'am. Amelia took everything we need to verify your identity, we'll still do a post mission MRI just to be on the safe side. Any injuries or concerns to report?"

"No," Sam replied, still subdued. "I wasn't injured. More intensive MRIs may be needed on all four of us," she said. "We're not sure what affect the memory stamping technology may have had. The return of mine and Daniel's memories were accompanied by terrible headaches. There could be a physiological basis we're unaware of." Her attention shifted to the General. "Sir, Teal'c and Captain Mitchell. Were they able to return after the bombing?"

"Teal'c and the Captain are just fine and should be here in a few moments. They were handling a recruitment orientation at the Beta Site. Neither were inclined to return to field duty yet," Hammond patted Carter's arm kindly. "Get your MRI, something to eat and cleaned up. For now, to be safe, we'll keep a couple of SFs with you but beyond that I'm inclined to not restrict your movements." Actually, Hammond figured with Dr. Jackson in surgery and the Colonel also injured, Carter's movements were the least of his concerns.

Brightman returned and gave Carter a friendly smile, "Colonel O'Neill has been take to OR-2. Dr. Cartwright is scrubbing. Don't worry, ma'am...the shoulder wounds were clean through and through. There did not appear to be serious or permanent damage. With physical therapy, he should have a full recovery. Good shooting." Brightman winked, "We're ready for you in the MRI and then, if you like, you can use our showers down here. I'll get you some scrubs."

"Thank you." Carter smiled a little ruefully. "Well, the Colonel does like reminding people I'm a crack shot. Too bad he forgot." She slipped down off the gurney and with the SFs trailing along, she followed Brightman. Sam was familiar with the post mission process. Once the MRI was completed, she was taken to the locker room just off the infirmary and allowed to shower and change into a pair of clean scrubs. When she'd finished changing, she made her way back to the infirmary, not willing to wander too far away until she knew more about Daniel's condition.

She located the friendly Brightman and joined her. "I haven't seen Dr. Garman." The other woman wasn't injured, but thanks to the Raahean intervention she was running the emotional gauntlet. Carter wouldn't be surprised if the physician didn't end up doing some couch time with Mental Health, actually now that she thought about it, it might not hurt for all of them to spend some time with a counselor. Well, maybe not Daniel, but those reasons were thoughts for another time. She knew he had an aversion to Mental Health services after the Ma'chello incident. Not that she really blamed him.

"She scrubbed in with Dr. Fraiser," Brightman reported with a smile. "We took blood tests and did an MRI while they were prepping Dr. Jackson for surgery. Dr. Fraiser is aware of the situation, but she needed the extra pair of hands. Under the circumstances, she decided to take a chance with it. Don't worry." She reached out and gave the Major's arm a squeeze. "Between the two of them he's getting the very best care."

* * *

The pounding in his skull could be likened to a particularly proficient miner wielding a pick-axe inside his brain. His shoulder ached and throbbed in counterpoint and somewhere a voice gibbered nonsense at him. Finally, the voice resolved itself into a nurse who was trying to encourage him to take some water and a pill of some kind. Just so she would shut-up and go away, O'Neill obliged her by swallowing the pill, drinking the water and sitting up so she could raise the head of the bed. His memories and the memories of Jerard Owynne chased one another around his mind like the March Hare and Mad Hatter. Unfortunately, he could remember everything...everything all too clearly. No sooner had the nurse left than O'Neill was bellowing for attention.

"Doc! Doc Fraiser...Janet, Carter, someone! Where's Daniel? Get my pants, I want out of here now." Jack tried swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and grunted at the cacophony of pain that movement set off in his shoulder. Movement alerted Jack to a presence and he turned his head to see Teal'c looming next to the bed.

"You need to remain in bed, O'Neill." The Jaffa stated calmly.

"I need some answers. I need to see Daniel...now," Jack ground out before yelling again, "Doc!" He tried to rise to his feet, "I'll go find him myself." He wobbled about a foot before his legs gave out. Fortunately for him, Teal'c had followed his movements and caught him, easing him back into the hospital bed.

"You will not, O'Neill," the Jaffa said calmly feeling sure Janet Fraiser would be coming to confront the disturbance in her Infirmary at any moment.

"Yes, please shut up that infernal bellowing," another voice croaked from a nearby bed. "Oh hell, my head. Oooh, who let me have tequila."

"Colonel," Janet Fraiser appeared only moments later. "I believe you're disturbing my other patients." She walked around the bed to his right side and began checking the dressing which covered his shoulder wound. "Dr. Jackson is in ICU, Major Carter is with him. What you need right now is to rest. Early yesterday morning we administered low doses of Electric Shock Therapy to bypass the memory stamp put in place on Raahe. The current was very mild, but you're going to feel it's affects for a day or so. Dr. Cartwright was able to repair you shoulder. Luckily there wasn't any nerve or joint damage. It was all muscular. You'll need some physical therapy, but you should make a complete recovery." The petite physician leaned against the side of the bed and folded her arms over her chest, she inclined her head at him and gave him her patented, _Watch it bub_, expression.

O'Neill rolled his eyes and muttered _Napoleonic Power Monger_ before fixing Janet with his dark eyes, "Electric Shock Therapy? Geez, Doc, don't you think my circuits have been fried enough?" Jack lay back against the pillows before sparing a glance for the voice that had complained about his _bellowing_. _Machelle!_ No...his mind sorted the memories and tried to ignore some of the images that floated behind his eyes. Oh Hell...he turned his eyes back to Fraiser wondering something so small could be so scary. "How is Daniel? I think I shot him..." More images invaded Jack's mind and he closed his eyes while taking in a sharp breath. "Daniel?"

"Critical." Janet dropped a hand to cover his. "He survived the surgery, we were able to repair the damage, but his body was weakened by the trauma and the blood loss. The next forty-eight hours are going to be critical. His chances for recovery are very good." Fraiser paused before continuing. "This wasn't your fault, Colonel. You were unaware of what was happening. You were manipulated on many levels. You all were." Her eyes were full of compassion. A smile graced her lips. "As for the Electric Shock Therapy, that was not my first choice. Dr. _Owynne_ and Major Carter had a hand in it too."

"Oh bugger." There was another groan from next door as the full brunt of memories played out behind the doctor's eyes. Madison rubbed her temples and hoped the pain killer decided to kick in soon. She reached out and pulled at the curtain that separated their two beds. "How are the bovine grafts holding?"

"Very well as of the last echo," Janet told her. "Your alter-ego has a better running whip-stitch than you do."

Jack finally fell completely silent. Despite Janet's assurance that what had happened was not his fault, it remained that it had been his hand holding the gun and his finger on the firing button. It was all well and good to say he was not in control, but Jack could still _feel_ Jerard's murderous rage and his determination to kill both Daniel and Carter. The fact that he may have succeeded in part of that desire was starting to hit O'Neill hard. Daniel had been giving himself up, surrendering...yet he had pulled the trigger...firing over and over. He could still see the shock and initial pain on his friend's face as he crumpled under the barrage of gunfire. He slid at glance at Garman and sighed...well...this was awkward. As the two doctors quit trading technical lingo that was way over O'Neill's head, he asked, much quieter than previously, "Can I go see him?"

Janet sighed softly. She could put him off, but in the end it would probably do more harm than good. Daniel was still touch and go. If he didn't make it, and the Colonel didn't at least get to see him, finding any sort of peace would be right out the window. "Okay," she said finally. "For a little while. I'll have a nurse bring a wheelchair. You're in no condition to be walking around just yet."

Madison watched the CMO walk away from them and rolled onto her side. She propped her still pounding head in her hand and regarded the man. Awkward didn't begin to cover it. "You should listen to her," she said quietly. "It's hard to separate the two sets of memories," actually it was almost damned near impossible. "Daniel was more concerned with getting you home before you could do something you would regret in the state they had you in than he was about himself. They had you living in a state of paranoia and rage. Neither of which are things you had any control over. Blaming yourself for any of this... just don't. Blame those that are genuinely responsible." She smiled gently. "He's your best friend. Everyone here knows that hurting him is the last thing that _you_ would do."

The headache had dialed itself down a notch and O'Neill's eyes were starting to focus. Memories still swirled chaotically and images of the mangled body of Calyb interspersed themselves with images of Charlie. In addition, his mind saw Dr. Madison Garman, a woman he barely knew, while his emotions and body were reacting to Machelle Owynne, his wife of ten years. Intellectually, yes...he understood what she was telling him. Jack had been _under the influence_ when he shot Daniel. Yet he felt that the man he really was should have checked Commander Happy Trigger Finger and stopped him from shooting an apparently unarmed man that was trying to surrender. Daniel or not Daniel, the incident rankled...it was just that much more painful realizing he had put his best friend at death's door this time.

"Easier said than done, Doc," Jack finally replied. Anything more at this point required revealing and talking about _feelings._..he mentally shuddered. No way was he ready for that. He realized that this incident was going to require he go there sooner or later, but for now _later_ was his choice...much later. He was prevented from saying anything else as the nurse arrived with the wheelchair and Teal'c joined them to help him move from the bed. Jack was amazed at how weak he was. "I know we need to talk about..._things_...just not yet," Jack said with a gentle smile. "Let's get the little men with the sledge hammers outta our heads first."

"Talk?" Madison's eyes widened. "There's really no need to talk about it. No reason we can't simply keep it at 'We went, we saw, it happened…' It could have been a lot worse," she began to ramble, which only made her head hurt that much more. "At least it was good, oh god, at least I lost that last fifteen pounds. That could have been embarrassing…."

Captain Cameron Mitchell wandered in during the middle of her ramble and grinned a little crookedly. "I hear he does that to all the ladies," he said to Teal'c. "Makes 'em all a flutter."

"You know, I think I'm going to go see the nice lady with the keys to the med cabinet about some morphine," Madison's eyes narrowed at Mitchell. "Then you and I are going to sit down and plan out your next physical…"

"Come to think of it," Mitchell began to back up. "I told Carter I'd run down to the mess hall and grab some of that blue Jell-O she likes so much. I better go do that. You know how cranky she gets when she's peckish…"

"I will accompany CameronMitchell," Teal'c stated calmly. "I am relieved that you and DoctorGarman have returned safely, O'Neill." The Jaffa inclined his head respectfully to both and turned to follow their youngest and newest team member. He had been to check on DanielJackson as well, but had been unsuccessful in getting MajorCarter to even consider leaving him. Perhaps he would try again with the sacrificial offering of the blue Jell-O.

* * *

The nurse handed him off to an orderly that wheeled O'Neill the short distance to the ICU unit. Nodding dismissal to the young man, Jack wheeled himself in and stopped the chair just inside the door. Daniel lay in the hospital bed with the head of the bed very slightly elevated. Medical equipment festooned the area and he wondered how the man could sleep with the plethora of different beeps, chirps, and pings going on around him. Daniel's skin was only a shade less white than the stark hospital sheets, the only color being dark, bruised looking smudges beneath his closed eyes. Wires, tubes, and IV lines ran in a seemingly never ending loop from the man in the bed to the machines, IV stands, and monitors.

Carter sat in a large, comfortable looking easy chair that must have been brought in for her. At some point, she must have gotten a shower and clean clothes because she wore a pair of faded blue jeans, a light blue sweater, and an old plaid shirt over the top of it all that Jack recognized as one of Daniel's. One hand held onto Daniel's and in the other, she balanced a book and was reading softly from it. His eyes softened at the sight of the two of them and Jack realized that there was no way he could avoid an upcoming conversation that would involve..._feelings._ Jack rolled the wheelchair the rest of the way in and parked it next to Carter's chair.

"How's our boy?" Jack asked, keeping his voice low although it did not look as if he would disturb Daniel if he came in banging on a drum and singing at the top of his lungs.

Sam glanced up, surprised to see him, but realizing that she shouldn't be. Of course this would be the first place he would have come once he regained consciousness. "Janet says that he's holding his own. This is good, medically. He hasn't gotten worse, but he's not really improving yet. It's going to be a few more hours before we begin to see any kind of improvement. If he makes it through the first forty-eight…" She trailed off with a weak smile and a half shrug. "Twenty-four down, so far…" So far he wasn't letting her down. This meant he was taking her threat to heart. She told him, many times already, in murmured whispers close to his ear that if he left her she was dragging his ascended butt back and tying it down until she was good and ready to be without him, and that would probably be never so he would just have to get used to it. Carter may have been the more laid back of the trio, but she could be every bit as stubborn as both Daniel and O'Neill when she chose to be. She was choosing now to exercise that right.

"How is your shoulder," she asked carefully, and grimaced slightly, knowing full well how it came to be in that condition. "I'm… sorry I shot you, Sir." She did feel badly for it, but there were also conflicting emotions involved. She couldn't say, for certain, at this point if she was in fact truly sorry.

"_You_ shot me? _You?_" Jack feigned surprise and hurt although his tone was teasing. "Don't worry about it, Carter. You did what you had too...although I think once would've covered it. And, I'll heal..." O'Neill studied her for a few moments, taking in the shadowed eyes and expression. Carter was one of the most animated people Jack had ever known. She could play things close to the vest when there was a need, but most often she was open and very expressive. She had also always taken it hard when one of the team was injured or ill. Jack had always assumed it was because she was the type that put too much on herself, expecting to be able to simply _fix_ everyone and everything. Jack bore a measure of guilt for that as well since he often expected her to fix whatever situation they were in no matter how big a task or illogical the request.

O'Neill's eyes returned to the pair of them...Daniel and Sam. Carter had laid aside the book when he arrived and now held Daniel's slack hand in both of hers and leaned slightly forward in her seat as if she could _will _him to live. Other connections started falling into place for Jack. Things he should have taken notice of all along. Carter and Daniel had clicked from the moment they met, their intellect and personalities blending with an ease that, had O'Neill really thought about it, was astounding. Daniel's wife...Sha're...had noticed. The colonel remembered that kiss clearly as the Abydonian woman marked her territory in a way that would be universally recognized by anyone...except maybe Daniel himself. And anytime there had been a crisis for either Jackson or Carter, the other had been truly inconsolable on the others' behalf.

Raahe had put them all into impossibly personal and intimate situations with one another...he with Dr. Garman, Carter with Daniel. Had it also opened the eyes of two of his dearest friends? Jack and Carter had flirted with an attraction for some years...one that could never go anywhere as long as they both remained in the military. They had both stated that they were fine with that, it was there, they recognized it, they would deal with it and move on. Somewhere in Jack's soul, he had always felt that if they genuinely loved one another...were _in love_ with one another...one of them would have taken steps to follow their heart...yet neither had. Surprisingly, O'Neill was okay with that which told him more than anything else that his feelings for Carter, while not quite what a CO should feel for his second-in-command, were not the type that people ditched careers over. He cared for her deeply, admired and respected her more than almost anyone he had ever served with, but had they acted on their feelings what would be left at the end of the day? What would they have talked about after the _ooh shiny_ wore off? Jack was not an idiot, but he also was not interested in science beyond _does it work_? _No...fix it _point.

Deciding he had to take the lead in this conversation since not only were feelings involved...which he hated...but also the fact that he was Carter and Daniel's commanding officer meant he could bring up subjects that, under military protocol, Carter really could not. Jack's timing might be awkward, but he felt Carter needed his support for the changes in her relationship to Daniel as much as she needed it for getting through this period of waiting to see if their friend...her lover...would live. "So..." Jack said slowly, watching Carter's long, elegant fingers as they gently massaged Daniel's limp hand, "you and the Space Monkey, huh?"

Carter glanced up and for a moment she stared at him in wide-eyed shock. Jack O'Neill had to be, quite often, the most clueless person that she knew. Of course, she knew that he preferred it that way, and more times than not he was only pretending to be clueless. With the change to her relationship with Daniel being so recent, she wouldn't expect him to pick up on it so quickly. So she was left staring at him, for several long moments. It took her brain a little while to reboot with the knowledge that O'Neill knew. "Yes sir," Carter's eyes lowered and she cast her gaze upon Daniel's long, elegant fingers, held limply between her own. "When our memories returned on Raahe, we realized that our minds could be manipulated to believe certain facts, but we could not be manipulated to feel what and how we were feeling. It was already there. We understand this is going to complicate matters." Sam sighed softly. She still had to break the engagement with Pete, but that was minor in comparison to what this change for them meant for the team as a whole.

"Good for you, Carter," Jack said adamantly. "It's about time you two quit looking for reasons not to be together." He chuckled at her expression, "Oh, come one...I'm clueless, not deaf, dumb, and blind." O'Neill paused to let his thoughts settle, "Assuming this means Detective Pete Shanahan is history?" He gave a pointed look and nod toward her left hand whose ring finger was now bare. It looked bereft and as if it was waiting for the _right_ man to put his claim on it.

Carter's thumb swept over the now empty place on her finger. "I just have to tell him," she admitted, feeling a little ashamed about that. "He doesn't know that any of this has happened. He doesn't even know I'm still alive. That's going to be a very long conversation." She reached up and rubbed a hand over her face. It was a conversation that she wasn't looking forward to. Not only would she have to explain she was alive, and gloss over the why and how – leaving out important mission details, but then she would have to tell him about Daniel. She owed Pete that much, at least. He had been patient with her, and with her career. "Pete loves me," she said, knowing it to be true. "I care about him. He's just not… Daniel." Sam returned his gaze with a shrug. "It's not going to be enjoyable, but Pete deserves better. That doesn't change my mind, it just makes it unfortunate for him."

Her head inclined and she regarded him carefully. "What about you, Sir? This had to have been awkward for you…"

"Nah...not yet anyway...let's not dwell, shall we?" O'Neill waved off Carter's question along with a flood of memories. "Look, Carter, you know that I've got your back when it comes time to sorting this Daniel and you stuff regarding SG-1. As long as the two of you have worked together _and_ cared for one another, I don't see it being an issue for the team and will state as much when that conversation comes about with the Big Guy. Until we come to that bridge, as far as I'm concerned, we're business as usual. And as for anything else that may or may not have existed between _us_, I'm thinking we're good and we both know how useful safety nets are and when to take a jump without one."

"Us?" For the first time in more than a day Carter's eyes lit with amusement. "I'm not aware that there ever was an us, Colonel. Are you trying to imply that you might have had inappropriate feelings regarding a member of your team? Teal'c will be shocked." In a move that was purely impulsive, and completely shrouded in friendship, Carter leaned across the space between their chairs and brushed a light kiss across his cheek. "Daniel understands," she said quietly, referring to the shooting.

Jack looked away for a moment before returning his gaze to Daniel although part of his attention was still on Carter. He knew that like Dr. Garman and Janet Fraiser, Carter was trying to absolve him from any guilt in the shooting despite him having pulled the trigger...alot. He understood and appreciated her way of going about it. It did not change the fact that it was something he would have to sort through alone, but it was a measure of their friendship that she could say it. In a rare show of feeling, O'Neill reached out to lay his hand on Daniel's briefly, "Okay, pal, this lady's waiting. You know she can whip your butt...time for you to get busy with the job of living." Jack sat back in the wheelchair and pointed toward the book, "I'll stay awhile. Maybe you should read some more? Make it all exciting and stuff too..."

"I don't do voices," Carter said with a half-grin. "But for an audience, I could make an exception." She leaned back and opened the book again. "Just for the record, I can kick both of your butts, blindfolded and with one arm tied behind my back…" The sparkle was back in her eyes. "Sir."

"No doubt on that, Carter," O'Neill grinned and closed his eyes, "no doubts at all.


	9. Unconquerable Souls

In the hours that came much of SG-1 kept a silent vigil over Daniel while they waited for a change in his condition. In just a few short hours following the return of Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Garman it seemed as though he could be making a turn for the worse. His O2 sats began to fall, while his heart rate increased. Alarms went off around the bed, startling Carter and O'Neill where they kept watch over him. Medical staff poured into the room, including Dr. Garman and the pair was quickly ushered out. It was explained minutes later, after he was once again stabilized that a clot had formed in the healing lung tissue, where the right lobe was pierced by a bullet. This was an expected complication and easily treated without the need to open the Archeologist's chest again. A catheter was snaked into the lung and the clot was removed. Shortly after, Daniel began to steadily improve.

A day passed while they waited for him to rejoin them, and while Daniel continued to improve to the point that his body began to fight the need for a respirator, he still had not awakened.

Doctors Fraiser and Garman explained that the longer Daniel remained on the respirator, the harder it would be for his body to relinquish the breathing aid. With his lungs on the mend, and his body growing stronger, they removed the tube. It was another tense few hours that passed while they waited and watched, hoping that removing the respirator would not cause any unforeseen complications or setbacks.

After two days of waiting, Daniel was finally deemed to be out of the woods. He continued to improve. His color was back and his vitals were remaining stable. All that remained was for him to wake up, which Sam still hovered nearby awaiting. She had scarcely left his side at all, only to shower, or to eat when forced. Janet had threatened to ban her from the infirmary if she did not leave every few hours to take care of herself. During one of her outings from the infirmary, and once SG-1 was deemed to be themselves and cleared to leave the base, Sam called Pete.

He was understandably surprised to learn she, and the others, were still alive. Once Sam explained the details she was permitted, with the mistakenly ID'd bodies, Pete began to understand. Then came the daunting, but necessary, task of explaining the Raahean memory stamps, and how she came to believe herself married to Daniel. That Pete was understanding of what they'd been put through, and even worried for Daniel, made it even harder to tell him what she must. He was, truly, a good man and she didn't want to hurt him. Sam cared for him deeply, as she explained to O'Neill days before. She simply wasn't in love with him. Not in the way she should be. Certainly not in the way she was in love with Daniel.

At first Sam prepared herself for a fight as Pete seemed to grow angry, and then his face settled into resignation and he sighed. "You know, Sam, in the back of my mind I was afraid that one day you'd open your eyes and realize what that guy means to you. I guess I just kept hoping it would never happen, or that you'd figure out that you loved me more." Pete shook his head, and chuckled, although it held little humor. "Well, at least it wasn't the _other_ guy."

Carter frowned, and then her eyes widened. "Colonel O'Neill?" Why did everyone _always_ assume that!

"No!" Pete snorted. "The other one. The young guy. Mitchell. If you left me for a younger man I'd have to develop a complex."

"But leaving you for an older man would be acceptable?" Carter shook her head at him. "Pete... sometimes, I'm not sure I can follow your logic."

"It's a guy thing," he told her. "We keep you guessing, it keeps you interested. Especially you scary smart types that freak us out."

That made her laugh and she reached into her pocket, pulling from it the ring he'd given her. "Pete, I am sorry," she said quietly.

"I know." He wrapped his hand around hers, closing her fingers around the gold band. "Keep it," he told her. "As a reminder. For Jackson. If he doesn't treat you right, I'll have to kick his butt."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate the sentiment," She said dryly, but gave him a rueful smile.

"Yes, I know." Pete rolled his eyes. "You could kick all our butts. Let a guy have his delusions. It's..."

"A guy thing," Sam finished.

She pulled him into a hug, and shortly after, with her promise to let him know how things turned out with Jackson, Pete left. Sam returned to the base with a change of clean clothes, and even swung by O'Neill's place on her way back to the base to grab clean clothes for him as well - knowing it would probably be well after Daniel was awake again before he would leave the base.

Upon returning, Sam retook her place in the infirmary at Daniel's side. She lifted the book she'd been reading from and opened it once more. "If you're not awake by the time I finish this chapter, you and I are going to be having a very long chat," she told Daniel, much to the amusement of Teal'c, who had been keeping watch in her absence.

"I do not believe that DanielJackson is in control of such things, MajorCarter." He raised an eyebrow at her, and the hint of a smile appeared. "Although it must be said that were he, I believe he would awaken with much haste."

Teal'c remained awhile longer and then took his leave. Following his exit, the usual routine of doctors, nurses, and orderlies made periodic appearances. Daniel slept through it all. Gradually though, awareness began creeping in. It was hard to wake up. Almost as if his mind sensed how much pain his body was going to be in and sought to avoid it at all costs. Eventually the need for something to drink and to call an SF to shoot the elephant sitting on his chest won out and he cracked sleep crusted eyelids open. Automatically, he tried taking a deep breath and internal alarm bells set up clamoring for his attention. His eyesight slowly cleared and he found himself staring up at a featureless, gray ceiling.

"Owwww," Daniel croaked out in an aggrieved tone, before trying to look around for his teammates...for Sam.

She hadn't slept much since coming back from Raahe, and her body had given in for the demand to rest. Sam dozed quietly beside him, but the moment she heard his plaintive groan she sat up, causing the book to fall to the floor. "Daniel." She took his hand and used her other to sweep his hair back from his forehead. "Hi there." She smiled brightly, despite suddenly wet eyes. She never imagined missing a pair of brilliant blue eyes so much, but seeing them again she realized she had.

Daniel's eyes told him that Sam was alright. She looked tired, but that was to be expected. The chance that she had left to rest herself was slim. He negotiated with his body trying to convince it to allow him to talk and breathe at the same time. "Jack, Dr. Garman?" He asked and winced at how weak and hoarse he sounded.

"Good, both of them." She reached for the pitcher of water on the table beside his bed and poured a glass. "Try this. Slowly." Sam slipped a hand beneath his neck to help lift his head so he could sip the water. "Easy," she said. "You've got some major injuries. We weren't sure if you were going to make it."

After a few sips of water, Daniel signaled that that was all he could handle for the moment. He lay back and gazed up at Sam, "Bad." He was not sure if he was making a statement as to his condition or asking a question. On the plus side, the longer he was awake the stronger he felt. "Sit up?" He asked hopefully.

"We can arrange that." Sam put the glass aside and rearranged his pillows as she began to very slowly raise the bed. "You'll have to say when. You've had major surgery."

"Oh good...I'd hate to think this was the result of over-indulging at my bachelor party," he quipped, then nodded that the bed was at a good angle. "Guess you're gonna have to call the doc and her penlight, huh?"

"Bachelor party?" Sam quirked a grin at him. "You'd have to get engaged first, and I don't remember you asking." She inclined her head at him and settled a hip on the edge of the bed. "Unless you've got other girlfriends wondering around here. Oh god," She feigned a shocked look. "That's why Madison has been hanging around here so much. I thought it was just her medical degree." Sam combed her fingers through his hair again. "I"m going to have to call the keeper of the penlight," she agreed, but she was reluctant to share him just yet.

"Oh right," Daniel said with a brief laugh. "I keep getting the whole courting, proposal stuff out of order. I'll work on that when I'm out of here." His eyes brightened, "Can you get one of the SFs to shoot the elephant off my chest? An SF though. I've heard about Dr. Garman and guns."

Sam started laughing. "Everyone has heard about Dr. Garman and guns. It's a small miracle she passed her Beta site training. Actually, she probably bullied the CO into passing her. She's good at that. We'll have to find a nickname for her. Something that compliments the Napoleonic Power Monger."

"I could take exception to that." Janet stood behind Sam at the entrance to the room. "I won't because it strikes fear into the hearts of all who hear it." She joined them on Daniel's other side and smiled down at him. "Hello you. Finally figured out ascension would have me nailing your butt to the bed this time, I see. How are you feeling?"

"Hard to breathe...feels like a cow kicked me in the chest or like someone literally grabbed my heart and squeezed," Daniel responded to Janet's inquiry. "As for the ascension thing...more afraid of Sam."

"I would be too," Janet confessed with a laugh. "Well, I'm afraid that heavy feeling will be around for a little while. We repaired three gunshot wounds. One of them hit your lung, the damage wasn't horrific, and it's healing well, but it's going to hurt to breathe too deeply for a while. The damage from the second bullet was purely muscular, that's good news. The third caused more damage. It nicked your Aorta and caused some damage to the left atrium of your heart. Dr. Garman, well, Dr. Owynne at the time, was able to repair that using bovine tissue grafts. The grafts act as a sort of... plug, if you will, while your own tissue grows around it. Scar tissue could be a problem with the heart tissue, we'll have to do regular echo-cardiograms to keep an eye on that as you heal, but in time you'll make a full recovery." While she spoke, she slipped the stethoscope from around her neck and listened to both his lungs and his heart. She checked the leads and wires connecting him to the monitors around the bed, and now that he was awake and able to take fluids she slowed the delivery on his electrolyte IV.

"It's okay," Sam wrapped her hand around his. "I shot him back this time. A lot."

Daniel's blue eyes widened and he looked around noting he was the only occupant in the ICU, "You shot Jack? Why...?" Then it hit him like another kick in the chest. The swirling dark in the courtyard on Raahe...Jack swinging his weapon toward Sam's head...Daniel moving in, offering to surrender...maddened dark eyes and the weapon swinging in his direction...the flash from the gun's muzzle...pain...unending pain. Daniel tried to pull his legs up, but quickly learned that was a mistake as he leaned back against the pillows. "Damn! It was Jack...is that why he's not here? Is he okay?"

"Hey." Sam cupped his chin and drew his gaze to her. "He's okay. You're okay. Everyone is fine. I went for the shoulder. It disabled him. He'll start physical therapy in a few days. He's..." She sighed. "He's been in and out of here, waiting for you to wake up. He's walking around a little like a zombie," she admitted. "He shot his best friend and he's not willing to forgive himself for it." He hadn't said as much, but Sam guessed, based on years of knowing and working with the man.

"Wasn't his fault," Daniel huffed out, his momentary panic attacking having winded him slightly. "Wasn't even Jack pulling the trigger." The archaeologist sighed softly, "He won't forgive himself. In time...he'll forget occasionally." Daniel raised his eyes back to Sam's and reached up to lay his hand on hers where it cupped his chin. "I'm okay...but damn! _You _shot Jack? He's so gonna milk that one from now on."

"Probably." She smiled at him and leaned down to kiss him again. "For a little while at least. I did remind him I could kick his butt." Her eyes danced. "We also have plenty to use against him."

Janet began to laugh where she stood pushing a mild relaxant - non-narcotic - into Daniel's IV to help calm him. "She means the game of dodge he's playing with a certain other doctor. One of them enters a room, the other quickly flees."

"You've missed a lot while you've been laying here being lazy," Sam teased.

Daniel looked from one woman to the other and shook his head, "You two are taking delight in Jack and Maddie's...uh...situation," he said as if admonishing them. "How soon before I get out of here?" Daniel suddenly changed the subject as he remember his and Sam's time on Aleria. He really wanted to be where he could hold her and reaffirm the connection they had made on Raahe after their memories cleared.

"A _while_," Janet told him with a grin. "You had major surgery. Heart surgery," she emphasized. "It's going to be days before I'll even be prepared to discuss it with you." She tapped his hand before folding her arms over her chest. "And I wouldn't say we're taking delight in it, exactly, but they are providing the amusement. It would be rude if we didn't enjoy it."

"I'll bring you some things from your apartment," Sam promised. "Books, clothes. Just beware of Mitchell bearing gifts. Macaroons," she whispered and shuddered.

Wrinkling his nose at the thought of macaroons...whatever a macaroon was...Daniel considered another line of attack regarding getting out of the Infirmary, "What about my quarters here and I wear one of those monitor thingies? Sam could look after me, she's got field medic training." He widened his blue eyes beseechingly.

Janet chuckled at his tenacity. "No. Not for a few more days, at least. We still need to monitor you closely. I will promise to consider that alternative if you continue to improve. Okay?"

"Okay, but only because I so love the food and attention here," Daniel responded with a good-natured chuckle. From the way he felt, although he was instinctively trying to act _fine_, he had guessed Janet's answer. However, Daniel had felt it his manly duty to try to negotiate an early release. Truthfully, he was already tiring, but loathe to admit it. Instead, his eyes flew to Sam's, "What's for dinner? I could go for a big cheeseburger and crinkle fries...not those straight wobbly ones..."

"It's spaghetti night in the mess hall," Sam told him with a grin. "But... for you, I'm sure I could find a way to smuggle something else in. I'll call O'Malley's, they've got the fries you like." She continued to stroke his hair. "But if you get busted with it, you're dealing with the Dragon."

"Don't look at me," Janet told them both. "I don't control diet, I just sew them back together." She picked up Daniel's chart and began making notations. "I'll be back to check on you in a little while," She promised. "So try to behave." Janet wagged her finger at him before leaving them alone.

Daniel felt his eyelids getting heavy again although he had been awake for less than thirty minutes. He blinked, stubbornly trying to stay awake in the hopes Jack would come by so he could see for himself that his friend was recovering from their ordeal on Raahe. He looked up at Sam and said, a petulant note in his voice, "Read some more? I don't want to sleep...too much sleep."

She leaned over him, stroking his hair again. "I'll read, but I want you to rest," she told him. "Your body needs it. Just consider how much faster you'll get out of here." The backs of her fingers stroked down the side of his face and she bent to kiss his brow. "Sleep," she murmured. "I'll still be here."

Sam's soft voice as she picked up the book and started reading again was the last straw for the archaeologist. Keeping his eyes open was more than he could do and Daniel soon lay back amongst the pillows and let himself drift into sleep. He was completely unaware of Sam pulling the blue coverlet up and tucking it gently around his chest as well as pulling another one from the cupboard and adding that. The room was not really gold although it was chillier than Daniel liked and Sam knew that his desert soul chilled easy when he slept. Soon, with everything to her liking, she returned to reading for a bit until sleep overcame her as well and she curled up in the big chair for a nap.

* * *

O'Neill paced the confines of his quarters. He occasionally glanced at the television that was tuned to a local channel and hockey game, but the sound was turned down. Earlier in the day, he had spent time playing chess with Teal'c, working on his report, and even making the first approach to Hammond regarding the change in Daniel and Sam's relationship and what it would mean to the team. Hammond had heard him out and stated that, while a great deal of it would be out of his hands, he respected Jack's opinions on the matter and his desire to keep his team together. Jack was reasonably satisfied with the interview. Since Daniel was a civilian the strict military regulations on fraternization could be loosely interpreted and often were at the discretion of the commanding officers. It was not common, but it was doable. Leaving Hammond's office, Jack had stopped by the ICU only to learn he had missed Daniel's awakening by moments. He stayed long enough to assure himself that his friend was resting more naturally and not in the deeply unconscious, near comatose state he had been in since the shooting. Promising to return later and let Carter take a break, Jack had returned to his quarters...where he was now pacing back and forth.

The shoulder was still sore, very painful when he tried experimenting with moving it, but it was healing. He was scheduled to start physical therapy the following day. He was not looking forward to it, but it was a necessary evil. The big thing for him...and the reason he was hiding out in his quarters...was fear. Jack had thought he would be overcome with guilt from shooting and nearly killing Daniel. And yes...that was a factor in his current mental chaos. Over and above that, however, was his _fear_ of encountering Madison Garman. Oddly enough, as the days passed, the memories he had from his time as Jerard Owynne were incorporating themselves into mind and integrating with his own life's memories. He could easily differentiate between them and knew his life's real memories from those created by the Raahen technology.

What Jack could not quite get his head around were his confused feelings regarding Madison Garman. Logically, he knew they had not been themselves...they had been presented with a situation that had them living as a long-married couple with all the ties and feelings that engendered and entailed. The rest of him remembered spending nights engaged in some of the best sex he had ever had. With that thought came images of the sultry, dark-haired beauty in his arms...smiling up at him...

Damn! They had to talk. He had to quit hiding and find Madison...sort things out because O'Neill suspected neither of them would get any mental peace until they did. Where they went from here...he had no way of knowing, but he had been briefly given something Jack thought lost forever. He stopped pacing and turned to click off the television, splash some cold water on his face and go hunting....after a turn through the Mess Hall...you never knew when they would have cake.

Her office seemed as good a place to go as any, Madison decided. There weren't many that would actively seek out a doctor unless they actually needed one. It seemed safe enough, for someone who was avoiding someone else, at the very least. Avoidance wasn't usually in her nature, most of the time she simply faced whatever issue presented itself head-on and dealt with the fall-out as it presented itself. What happened on Raahe was decidedly different. Her thoughts, as well as her feelings, about the entire ordeal were conflicted. On the one hand, logically and rationally she knew that those experiences were inflicted upon them. They had no control over the lives they led, over the things they'd done. On the other hand, Machelle remained a part of her. Those memories were there, lingering alongside her own. Along with the emotions they provoked.

Madison sat curled in the chair behind her desk, eyes riveted on a delicate band of Raahen silver. She held it on her index finger and watched as the light caught the intricate carvings and design. It was odd, how a life that didn't belong to her could affect so much. Madison could separate the two, her life and Machelle's. What was difficult was being faced with a man she could truthfully say she only barely knew - and yet, now, felt as if she did. She rested her chin against the tops of her knees with a sigh. Other memories found the oddest moments to assault her. Long nights filled with passion and love in the arms of a man she adored. That Machelle adored, Madison corrected.

Sooner or later she would need to face him. They would have to discuss what happened between them on Raahe if they had any hope of working together in the future. She could be professional, put it aside and carry on. Yet it was the history shared between Machelle and Jerard as much as the passion which kept bringing her thoughts back to Raahe. They'd shared a life together, made a home, and were for the most part happy with that life. It had it's ups and downs, that was expected, and there was the tragedy of losing Calyb. A child not her own, and yet, through Machelle she felt it keenly. These were all strange things to be feeling for a woman who put her career ahead of a personal life, fitting in romance when it was convenient to do so. She still felt no regret for that. Her career and her life were fulfilling, she was at ease with the way she'd lived. Seeing the other side of the coin, however, well that was something else entirely. It made the woman inside the physician long for something more. For Jack? She couldn't exactly say. But that connection, the sort that developed when two people were willing to share what Machelle and Jerard had over time. Or what had grown out of friendship with Sam and Daniel.

Whatever direction it took, talking to O'Neill would have to happen soon, Madison resolved. She placed the ring she'd worn back from Raahe on her desk and opened a drawer. She pulled out a bag of Hershey's Miniatures and started opening a piece of candy. The talk could wait, she decided, chocolate first.

There had been a decided lack of cake in the Mess Hall. The officer in charge had sadly stated that today's menu called for pie, not cake. On a brighter note, there would be cake on the following day. _'Perhaps,' Jack thought, 'I can grab a to-go lunch for me and Danny-Boy.'_ Leaving the Mess, Jack felt his feet dragging as he approached the elevators. The lyrics to the song _Feelings_ started going through his head and Jack stopped walking to glare at the walls. He really hated that song. _'Oh, come one!' O'Neill muttered to himself._ Okay, maybe it was this setting. The SGC was not a place that promoted an atmosphere conducive to long talks about _things...personal things. _Maybe he should just ask her out to dinner. No...that sounded like a _date_ and would confuse things further. Jack sighed. What he really needed was to talk to Daniel, get his counsel on how to proceed. His younger friend was clueless when it came to his own relationships, but not bad at reading other people's. Of course in this instance, Daniel would probably pull a stitch laughing and get Jack into even hotter water. Then an idea hit him making O'Neill grin as he stepped into the elevator and rode it up one level to Medical Services.

Once he was decanted from the lift, he made his way past the Infirmary and to the the short side corridor that contained the majority of the doctors' private offices. As assistant CMO and Chief of Trauma, Garman had one of the larger offices at the head of the corridor. Jack stopped just out of sight of the open door, took a deep breath, and stepped into the doorway, rapping on the door jamb as he did. "Hey, Doc."

The doctor's head popped up from where she was contemplating the benefits of just one more of the little chocolate candies. To find the subject of her thoughts, and sudden indulgence, standing in front of her was a bit disconcerting. The urge to flee swept over here, but as luck would have it, he was blocking the only exit. "Colonel." Madison inclined her head at him, baffled by the visit, but not exactly displeased with it she discovered. "Can I… help you?" She almost cringed at how utterly lame the greeting sounded.

"I thought maybe you'd like to get out of the mountain for a bit. I'm heading up top for a walk around," Jack mentally frowned as he tried to decide if that was a logical lead in or totally ridiculous. Perhaps he should have asked if the doctor even _wanted _to talk. There was a very good probability that she just wanted to let it all drop and move on.

Well, Madison thought, at least he wasn't planning on hashing all of it out in her office. That could either be good or bad, depending on which side she chose to approach it from. She decided to go with good, although she wasn't really sure what good meant. Instead of dwelling on it too long, Madison gave a quick nod. "Why not, I could stand to get out of here for a little while." As she rose, her eyes went to his shoulder. "Are you up for it?"

Jack waggled his arm where it rested in the sling, "It's good, healing fast so the little Napoleonic Power Monger says. Still, we'll take the scenic route and not straight up the access ladder. Daniel woke up for a few minutes today."

"I heard." She smiled at him. "That's good. His body needs rest, but he's out of the woods now. He's doing really well." Madison walked around the desk to join him. "He still has some recovery time ahead of him, but he's going to be okay."

Conversation was desultory as they made their way out of the mountain to the fresh, clean air beyond. Jack led the way through security and to the trail that would take them to the top of the mountain. By the time they reached the top, his shoulder was aching a bit and Jack was grateful to stop them in the clearing SG-1 often retreated to in order to clear their heads and take in the beauty of the Rocky Mountains. Despite the ache in his shoulder, the exercise felt good after so many days of being stuck underground. Taking a deep breath of the clear mountain air, O'Neill indicated a haphazard collection of boulders as good seating. He settled on one of the rocks, dark eyes watching Madison do the same. "This is good. I haven't left the base since we got back...in case..."

"I know." She understood the need to remain nearby. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, it felt good to be outside. "I love the mountains. As much as I miss living near the ocean, there's something very… peaceful about living in the mountains. There's a place in Central America… it's so far removed from everything. It's clean and untouched. We would pass through a couple of times a year and take medical supplies to the villages. It was…" Madison shrugged. "Just a good respite from everything else. Although…" Her eyes lit up with amusement. "As I recall, a Major Paul Davis did make quite the pitch about coming to Colorado. I need to have a chat with the good Major, I'm pretty sure he left a few things out of the brochure."

O'Neill chuckled. He was well aware of the pitch the Pentagon sent out via their liaisons...usually Major Paul Davis. The candidate had to sign on the dotted line _prior_ to being told what they were signing up for. As Madison stated, some things _were_ left out of the brochure. Jack knew what she was saying though...about getting out and away from everything. That was what fishing did for him. It cleaned out the clutter in his mind. He would have to remember to ask her to go trail biking next time he and Daniel went. One of their routine trails was to Diamond Falls and it had that remote, away from it all feel. Jack sighed. While he would far prefer discussing the scenic beauty of planet Earth, he and Madison needed to start sorting out the issues left over from Raahe.

"I can understand that...getting away from it all," Jack said with a nod. "Look...the reason I asked you out here...other than to just get out for awhile...I'm aware there are some..._issues_...remaining from our sojourn as Jerard and Machelle Owynne. Honestly, I'd rather have my fingernails pulled out than actually _talk_ about this stuff. But, looks like talking's the only option for ironing things out so we quit running the other way when we see one another on base."

The temptation to get up and begin to pace was a strong one, but Madison crossed her legs and remained where she sat. "You're absolutely right," she said, and sighed softly. "They put us both through an emotional roller coaster, sorting through all of it has been… well, I think awkward would describe it. I'm sure I could think of a few other words too. But we are adults, professionals even, we should be able to work our way around this. We will have to work together again. Despite the fact that you drive me absolutely batty most of the time," she said, though not unkindly, and with an almost devious glint in her eyes, "we should be able to move beyond this."

"Thing is," Jack stared at his feet for a few moments before looking up to meet Madison's eyes, "I've had alot of time to think while waiting to find out Daniel was going to live or die. Hour by hour, the distinction between me and Jerard Owynne is fading...not the memories...just that they are integrating themselves into _my_ life. Intellectually, I know the difference...it's like _yeah...that wasn't me_ that had that connection to and with you, but yet it is...was...oy!" O'Neill paused again. There was quite a bit he wanted to say to her and some of it went beyond awkward and personal, but he needed..._something_...and he wasn't sure what that something was or how she filled the bill on it. He just knew it was there and he had to address it. "Look...what I'm trying to say...I think...is that I _like_ the memories I have of _us_ as a...team...pair...couple...and I think I'd like to get to know _you_...the real _you_...not the _Machelle_ you. What I'm trying to say is that I don't think avoiding you and pretending the whole didn't happen is the solution."

Madison looked away while she truly considered what he was saying. It came as a surprise, and not at all what she was expecting from the man. What he was describing was much the same as she was experiencing, exactly the same to be honest. Her eyes lifted, softened in the late afternoon light. "I keep telling myself to think about what happened in terms of experiencing Machelle's life. It was what she said, what she did, but the longer I'm left to think about it, the more apart of me that she becomes." Madison gestured with her hands as she tried to explain the direction that her thought processes had taken in the past few days, and realized Daniel was right. The memories were given to them, but the night Machelle described her husband to Daniel and Sam in her kitchen, she really had been describing Jack. Much of what made Machelle three dimensional were parts of Madison's own unique personality and mannerisms.

"I was never married," she continued without pause. "I've never regretted that. I don't regret it now. I've enjoyed the path my career has taken, whatever the twists and turns along the way were. It has been incredibly fulfilling. I made a choice when I chose the sort of work that I wanted to do, and looking back was never an issue for me. For the last few days… it has been. Machelle loved, and she worried, and she put Jerard's wellbeing above her own safety… even knowing in the very end she could quite possibly lose him to save him…" Madison shook her head, as if the entire ordeal was a puzzle to her. "Before this experience I would have said… Honey get out while you still can. But now… after going through all of that, it was worth it," she said with a simple shrug. "Over the last few days I kept expecting to feel relieved that it was over, that I could go back to my very simple, very uncomplicated personal life but… that feeling never came. I feel like there's something missing."

Madison sighed. "I suppose, what I'm saying is that I agree with you. Ignoring it isn't going to make any of it go away, and it isn't a solution to anything that either of us might be feeling."

Jack caught himself heaving a sigh of relief. Okay, this hadn't been so bad...so far. "I won't recommend Raahe as a dating service...but...and at the risk of sounding like Daniel...we were given a taste of what could be, might have been...not sure there." He rose to his feet with a genuine smile...not one of the sarcastic smirks he was prone to wear. Talking to Madison had been easier than he had anticipated and actually felt _good. _It was like when he would finally let go and really talk to Daniel. Things, the burdens he carried, always felt lighter afterward. "I need to get back, would like to be there if Danny wakes up again...but maybe dinner in a night or two?"

"I'd like that," she said with a smile, rising to her feet to walk back with him. There was a weight lifted that she only just realized was there. It felt… really good to not have this hanging over their heads any longer. "I do have to warn you," she said with a smirk. "I'm… more of a beer and steak kind of girl. The other stuff was all Machelle."

Taking her arm to help her over the larger boulders and back to the trail, O'Neill chuckled, "For the record, I don't really care where we go. If I enjoy the company, I usually enjoy the meal." And that was basically a true statement. While normally a meat and potatoes kind of man, beer over wine, Brooks Brothers over Armani, the occasion and the company usually dictated whether he was going to enjoy himself or not. Once they reached the trail, Jack dropped his hold on Madison's arm and tucked his hand in his pocket to stroll companionably alongside her back to the base.

* * *

Jack made it back to the base and down to the Mess Hall for two large coffees before making his way back to the Infirmary to check on Daniel. Reaching the ICU, he stood in the door for a few moments trying to decide how to approach his friend. Daniel lay, cushioned by numerous pillows and propped up slightly. He appeared to be sleeping, but restlessly, as he would turn his head back and forth, occasionally clenching his long fingers in the coverlet. Jack was about to change his mind about disturbing him when Daniel opened his eyes, immediately spotting Jack near the door. The normally bright blue eyes were clouded and a bit out of focus. Jack frowned as he noted the morphine pump attached to the rest of the equipment. Ordinarily, Daniel avoided heavy narcotics. Due to what he feared was an addictive nature, he preferred to deal with pain on his own or at the most with non-narcotic pain medication.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice was rasping and still a bit hoarse.

Holding up the coffees, O'Neill pushed off the door jamb and walked over to take a seat in the easy chair. "Hey, Danny...want this?" Jack held up one of the coffees and grinned as Daniel nodded eagerly. He carefully uncapped the second cup and handed it to his friend making sure Daniel had a good grip on the cup before he let go and sat back down. Jack watched as Daniel took a careful sip and then lay back against the pillows.

"Thanks for the coffee," Daniel said finally as the silence stretched between them threatening to become uncomfortable. "How are you? The shoulder?"

O'Neill twitched the injured shoulder, "It's working okay...physical therapy starts tomorrow." The older man rose to his feet and set his own coffee on the small bedside table. Running a hand through his short, gray hair, Jack took a turn around the small room. "Daniel...I..."

"...You're sorry," Daniel interrupted, his voice faintly slurred from the medication and softer than normal. "Sit down," the archaeologist ordered.

Jack blinked but did as he was told, somewhat surprised at Daniel's strong tone. The archaeologist pointed at the controls to the bed, "Do you mind...?" O'Neill leaned forward and touched the button that raised the head of the bed, but Daniel was still restless and finally they finally got him comfortable by slightly elevating the middle so that his legs were barely raised as well.

"Listen to me, Jack," Daniel began, sounding far more lucid and in control than he had moments before. "We're going through this just this once because I don't really like laying my personal feelings out on the table any more than you do. We've always been good with _Are you okay_..._No, but I will be_. That's been enough most of the time. Yeah...sometimes after a particularly horrible incident, we meet, we drink, we _talk_...but even then mostly it's the companionship and the _faith_ we have in the friendship that mends the fences and the souls." Daniel paused to clear his throat, "Jack, what happened on Raahe was beyond our control. They hit just the right buttons with you...Owynne's son's death crossed up with Charlie's death...something you've never totally dealt with and which you'll never lose the guilt over. It's part of you."

"Daniel..." Jack started only to subside as his friend held up his hand.

"Let me finish, Jack. Here's my two-bit pop psycho-analysis...Your guilt over Charlie bled through the little psychorama they created for you via Owynne's life and memories. You needed to hate something or someone other than yourself and someone became Darius Jagger...which the Raahe then did all in their power to reinforce that delusion. You're thinking _Yeah, but I should've been strong enough to stop myself...Jerard_. But none of us were strong enough to overthrow the programming. If they had been able to continue the memory stamps, we'd never have gotten back to ourselves. That makes their technology really good...it doesn't make us weak." Winded for a moment from the outburst, Daniel lay back against the pillows.

Jack's eyes widened in alarm and he started to press the button for a medical attendant, but Daniel shook his head, "I'm okay...Look...I know that no matter what I say, you're going to feel guilty about this. And, ya know, I hate that, but it's a validation that you're a better man than you want to think you are. You can't just say that it wasn't your fault and wave it off. I wish you could. I wish I could quit feeling guilt for the loss of Abydos...but it's who we are."

O'Neill leaned back in the easy chair, "Actually, I was just gonna ask if I could see your scars?"

Daniel began to laugh softly at first and then louder. The laughter was punctuated by the occasional moan of agony as laughing involved still healing muscles and injuries for Daniel. Jack soon joined in and it was quite some time before either man could speak again. "Ass," Daniel said when he could finally speak again.

"Take's one to know one," Jack quipped. Downing the rest of his coffee, he tossed the cup in the trash and started to rise to his feet, "I should go...let you rest before Ole Doc Fraiser gives me the boot..."

Daniel reached out a hand as if he would physically stop Jack from leaving, "No...not yet. I know it's just the drugs and the final dregs of memories sorting themselves out...but sleeping stinks..."

Jack resumed his seat, "So...how about them _Penguins...?_" Spotting the novel Carter had been reading to Daniel, Jack picked it up. "Lay back...rest..." The older man smiled as Daniel did what he was told, his eyes closing as Jack began reading quietly.


	10. Healing Spirits, Part I

With a broad smile and a bit of a flourish, Sam opened the door to Daniel's downtown loft. "Home sweet home." In the two weeks that passed following the shooting he only continued to improve. After a week, Janet upheld up her promise to reconsider allowing Daniel to move to on base quarters as long as he was monitored closely. Since he was strong enough to be mobile at that point, and needed to begin rebuilding his strength, she consented to allow it. She also knew Sam would not be far from his side, so she needn't worry the trouble he'd get himself into.

Once Daniel's body, more specifically his heart and lungs, were strong enough to allow movement beyond traveling just from the bed to the bathroom, he was tasked with walking - a few minutes, several times a day. At first he became quickly winded and easily tired, but as the days passed his body grew accustomed to the exertion. As yet another week passed with no sign of infection or cardiac distress, Janet agreed that Daniel could leave the Mountain. That only opened another can of worms.

Sam smiled as she recalled the fight that ensued. Daniel wanted to go home to the loft, O'Neill wanted him to go home with him. It was incredibly amusing to her that neither of them sought her opinion. In the end, Daniel won, with logic and reasoning that only frustrated the Colonel and had him grumbling that he would be _checking up_ on Daniel very soon, and quite often.

"Why don't you go in and get comfortable," Sam said and gathered up the bags she carried. One contained his myriad of prescriptions. Antibiotics, pain medication, and another she couldn't easily recall the name of that would regulate his heart rate while the muscle continued to heal. Luckily it would only be necessary in these first critical weeks of healing. He was already doing physical therapy, nothing strenuous, but it was rebuilding his lung and heart capacity while ensuring his strength returned. The second bag contained the clothing she gathered for him over the two weeks he spent at the SGC, while the third contained leg pumps. Sam didn't anticipate Daniel using the pumps much now that he was home, but the devices were encased in cloth which wrapped around his legs, like small blankets. They connected to a machine and were meant to be worn while he was stationary. They would contract lightly every few minutes to keep blood circulating in his legs, so that clots would not form.

Sam carried all of it inside and set it near the sofa. Just that morning she had come by to do a bit of cleaning, air the place a bit so it wouldn't seem as though it had been closed up for so long. She had even started dinner to cooking in the crock pot, and the aroma wafted through the loft.

Daniel did not go directly to change clothes and get comfortable as Sam suggested. First, he prowled all the rooms on the main level of the loft as if marking his territory again. The spiral staircase to the upper level that served as a library and housed the entrance to the roof, he did not attempt. After the thorough prowl, he headed for his bedroom to change into sweats and a thin shirt. By the time that was completed, Daniel felt a thousand years old, and figured he looked it too as he picked up a ratty old sweater to pull on over the t-shirt. He stopped and blinked as he realized several bags that did not belong to him lay on the bed. Curiously, he opened one only to have the scent of pure Sam waft out making his grin. It looked like she was totally ignoring his mandate that everyone return to life as normal...the one that predated him being a virtual invalid.

Truth was, Daniel was finding this whole heart surgery healing thing a tad rougher than he was accustomed to. Jack had gleefully pointed out that Daniel was no longer thirty years old. His days of bouncing back overnight from traumatic injury was long gone. It seemed he was right. Just the trip home had worn Daniel out and it took all his remaining energy to get him back to the living and ensconced on the sofa. He still planned on discussing Sam's plans to stay and play nursemaid with her. Not that he did not want the woman he loved with him twenty-four/seven, but he felt he needed to get self-sufficient again. Daniel had noticed an alarming tendency in himself to depend on the others more than usual over the last two or three weeks.

Leaving the bedroom, he settled on the sofa, stretching his long legs out on the matching ottoman and sniffed the air appreciatively, "Something smells really good...but you must have been up at the crack of dawn to do all this and still come get me."

"Not quite." Sam smiled and stored his things before joining him on the sofa. "Pot roast. Dad's recipe. It was the only thing he was actually able to cook." She settled beside him and drew her legs up beneath her. "Glad to be home," she reached out and brushed her fingers through his hair. The truth was she had come by early. To start dinner, and to bring by some things of her own. She wasn't planning on leaving him alone anytime soon, even if it meant staying in the guest room.

"Sam," he leaned close, loving the feel of her fingers brushing his slightly longer than usual hair, "I love you for doing all this...but you do not have to stay and take care of me. I've got to get back on my feet."

"Which is exactly what you're going to do." She leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth. "That doesn't mean you have to do it alone. You're not alone anymore." Sam gave him an impish little smile. "Besides, we lived together on Raahe. I miss it, that part of it, I mean." The simple companionship of having the one you love nearby. "Not that I'm advocating I move in," she was quick to add. "I'm just not ready for you to be here alone yet or... well, me to go home alone."

Daniel reached out to gently pull Sam to his chest...carefully as he was still very sore. "My darling Sam-I-Am, I want you here. I want you to live here. I don't want to spend another minute without you...but I don't want us to start out by you having to babysit me." He reached up to very gently caress the lines of her face. "I love you so much. I am ready to start our real lives together...just never imagined I'd be creeping around like a two-hundred year old man when it started."

"You're not," she said adamantly and reached up to cup his face. "Daniel, you're healing. I don't mind helping you, and I'm certainly not here to play babysitter. I'm here because I want to be with you. I love you. I almost lost you before we could even begin to explore everything that this means for us. I'm not willing to waste a single day. If that means taking care of you, so be it. You're not a burden to me, Daniel Jackson."

"Yeah...let's see if you say that after you see how much help I still need...it's embarrassing," Daniel joked. "I'm thinking I've already lost the argument on sending you home." Daniel settled into the corner of the sofa with Sam tucked into his side.

"Don't worry," Sam laughed quietly, "I promise to let you win the next argument." She lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes while a contented little sigh passed her lips. "I wouldn't worry about being embarrassed either. Nurse Dragon gave me sponge bath lessons..."

Daniel's chest tightened and his body responded more than appropriately to the images Sam's mention of sponge baths brought to mind. Still mindful of the sore bits, he pulled Sam into his embrace and into a long, passionate kiss. He felt her adjust her position to make sure she was not putting pressure on his surgical injuries and deepened the kiss. As always, with Sam in his arms, his mind stalled out leaving him to go with the moment and not start analyzing all the complications their new found relationship might present once he returned to the SGC and active duty.

Instinct took over as Daniel slipped one shoulder of Sam's blouse off her shoulder and trailed kisses down the graceful length of her throat and across the gentle swell of one breast. Returning his attention to her lips, Daniel captured hers with his again, exploring the sweet depths of her mouth as if trying to taste her soul. It was his own limitations that made him break off the kiss. Pressing his lips into her hair, "I love you...I need you," he sighed. The anthropologist in him knew that he was experiencing the simple male need to reaffirm his manly abilities in the face of a debilitating injury or illness. Although Daniel also knew that that was only one aspect of the feelings he was experiencing now. Having Sam in his home, taking care of him as any mate would their injured partner, brought forth the memories from when Sabyl had tended Darius after his beating at the hands of the CTU on Raahe.

She needed him. The feel of his arms wrapped around her. It was too long since the last time she felt that, and all too soon since the fear that she might never feel it again encompassed her. Sam was mindful of his injuries, but she could feel his soul crying out to hers. She could feel his need and her body responded to it with a keen ache of wanting. "Daniel," with his name a sigh on her lips she turned her face into his neck and trailed soft, gentle kisses upward to the curve of his jaw. "We shouldn't." That was the rational side of her brain speaking, which set the rest of her brain to protesting loudly in an attempt to smother it. "I could hurt you." Obviously her mind wasn't protesting loudly enough, so the volume increased, her heart joining the cause. "But I need you," she murmured between kisses.

Two weeks since Raahe. Two weeks since the shooting and the surgery. It was more than sex. She needed to feel him wrapped around her. His strength, his warmth. Her body needed to feel the life in him so that her heart could stop fearing that he would leave her. More than that she loved him. It filled her near to bursting and only fueled her need.

"Janet didn't say I couldn't," Daniel murmured into Sam's hair with a glint in his eyes and a smile full of mischief and longing. "I think we need more room though." The thought of taking Sam to his bed, _his_ lair, brought a renewed surge of passion that caused a moan of need to escape him. Rolling to his feet and pulling Sam with him was a tad less graceful than normal, but he achieved his feet. Daniel would have liked nothing more than to scoop Sam into his arms and carry her to his room, but he _knew_ that was beyond his abilities at the moment. He had to settle for backing slowly toward his room while raining kisses along her throat and lips.

There was a bit of the sense of giddy excitement, at knowing they were doing something they probably shouldn't. Something that could get both of them into trouble. "We'll just have to make sure she doesn't know," it might have been a purr, but it ended on a giggle. They were two grown, consenting adults, and here she was worried about being naughty. Sam slid her hands beneath his sweater and the t-shirt underneath. Her fingers skirted over his sides. When they crossed the threshold of his bedroom she caught his lips for a long, slow kiss, while her foot caught the door and pushed it firmly closed behind them.

The feel of Sam's fingers against his bare skin was almost more than Daniel could take. A shiver of pure pleasure rippled through his body as he continued backing toward his bed. Feeling the bed against the back of his legs, he turned just enough to sweep Sam's duffel and other bags to the floor before shrugging out of the sweater and t-shirt. He hesitated just a moment, acutely aware of the appearance of the still healing surgical scars.

There were three distinct scars which marked the damage done to him. Sam reached out and gently traced the thin line that bisected his chest. Her index finger barely touched it. Then she lay her hand over his strongly beating heart and bent her head. She left feather light kisses along the scar, moving steadily upward. "I love you," she said. Her eyes lifted to his beautifully, elegant face, a look conveying he needn't ever worry about hiding any part of him from her.

Daniel's breath caught in his throat as Sam's kisses trailed up his chest. They had made quick, fiery, passionate love as their memories returned on Raahe. They had needed that physical affirmation that their feelings for one another was not residual emotions left by their counter parts and they had made love numerous times prior to that as Darius and Sabyl. This was their first as themselves and without the rush of a pending crisis. It was not an optimum set of circumstances due to Daniel's physical state, but he was not going to let that stop them. Carefully, he reached up and started unfastening the buttons of her blouse, leaving a kiss after each button. About half way down, still aware that extreme motion was out of his league, Daniel sat on the edge of the bed where he could continue the process until finally his kisses were stopped by her jeans.

Her eyes were closed. Pleasure danced through her, keeping a rhythm with the stomach muscles dancing beneath his lips. When he stopped her eyes fluttered open and she gazed down at him, eyes dark with passion and need. Her hand rested at the back of his head, fingers tangled in his longer than usual hair. The beginnings of a playful, seductive smile curled at Sam's lips. She gave a single, simple shrug of her shoulders and her blouse slipped away to pool on the floor behind her. Cupping his cheek with her other hand she bent and pressed a kiss to his lips meant to curl his toes.

Daniel moaned against her lips and reached out to unfasten the waistband of her jeans and tug them off leaving her clad only in her bra and panties. Pausing in the kisses, Daniel simply stared at Sam drinking in her beauty. Reaching up, he gently traced a line from her collar bone down to the top of her lacy underpants and then back up to run his hands gently along her ribs. Sam was perfect. She was tall, with elegant, well-muscled long legs but despite rigorous working out to stay in shape for duty, she retained a very feminine, curvaceous figure. Daniel thought he would never get tired of tracing the lines and curves of her body or drowning in the depths of her passion darkened eyes.

"God, you're beautiful, Sam," Daniel said, his voice husky with his own passion.

It made her cheeks color with delight. She had been told before that she was beautiful, but always put more stock in the abilities of her mind than the way she looked. It made hearing it, especially from Daniel, that much more delightful. "So are you." It was more than body. More than the long, elegant fingers she twined with her own. It was spirit and mind, and everything that made him uniquely _Daniel_. "But you are incredibly overdressed Dr. Jackson." She placed a hand on his shoulder and carefully pushed him onto his back. She caught the waistband of his sweats and slid them down his legs before joining him to lay beside him on the massive bed.

Reaching out, Daniel entwined his fingers in her short, silken hair and gently tugged her closer, "Let's see if we can remember how this goes..."


	11. Final Chapter: Healing Spirits, Part II

The great ballroom of the Diamond Falls Lodge was spectacularly decorated. Garlands of evergreens with fresh flowers entwined draped over the stone fireplace and along the balcony railings inside and outside. The lighting was low, complimented by flickering candlelight. The setting could not have been more perfect. Daniel turned away from speaking to General Hammond and smiled as he spotted his wife on the dance floor with her father.

It had been six months since the events on Raahe. Daniel had returned to active field duty two and a half months after the incident on RA1-786, one month after that he had proposed to Sam and she had said yes. Earlier that day they had exchanged their vows under a magnificently clear Colorado sky in the state park's outdoor chapel with the sound of the waterfall cascading into the pool far below as their wedding music. Now, amongst their closest friends, Sam's family, soft waltz music, and laughter, Daniel watched Major Samantha Carter Jackson whirl gracefully around the dance floor in her father's arms and felt his chest tighten with emotion as he gazed at her.

"Well, Daniel," O'Neill wandered up, beer glass in hand, and the throat of his dress uniform loosened, "I have to say, you took long enough." Teal'c was across the room investigating the buffet and Captain Mitchell was on the dance floor with Janet Fraiser. Madison had taken herself off to the lady's room to put on her _dancing shoes_ so she said. O'Neill suspected she was about to shed the gown she had worn to the wedding in favor of something far more comfortable. A number of the guests had.

"We did have a few roadblocks along the way," Daniel responded wryly.

"True," Jack acknowledged and smiled.

SG-1 had returned to the field and although command had kept a close watch on Daniel and Sam, they had proved that they could handle the change in their relationship and maintain professionalism in their work. As Jack had told Hammond, they did not love one another any more or less than before simply because they now shared a home and bed. The team would still be scrutinized closely for a long while, but nothing new there. Getting all the paperwork sorted for their nuptials had been far harder than the adjustment to returning to the field. Jack's smile was warm with affection as he, like Daniel, watched Sam dance with Jacob Carter.

The dance ended and there was a round of applause for the band hired for the event. Sam stood smiling at her father. "Have I mentioned how happy I am that you made it?"

Jacob's grin grew wider. "My kid gets married and you think I'd miss it? Selmak might take offense to that." Laughing, he pulled her into a tight hug.

From over his shoulder, Sam spotted Daniel with Jack. They were talking, not that it was new or all that rare, but just looking at Daniel made her smile soften. _Husband_. It went through her, making her heart swell with emotion and excitement. The unending depth of love she felt for that man never ceased to amaze her. Everyday was something new and amazing. After eight years of gate-hopping around the galaxy who could have guessed that this love would be the biggest adventure she'd know. She certainly hadn't.

Sam leaned back to smile at her father. "I think I'm going to go and rescue Daniel before it gets too deep over there."

Jacob followed her gaze and laughed. "Probably not a bad idea. Go on."

Her gown rustled around her as she made her way across the dance floor, easily moving through the crowd of guests and well-wishers. She passed Janet with Mitchell, who was doing his very best to be charming and laughed at the look the petite doctor shot her direction. If the young Captain was enthralled by the beauty of her Maid of Honor there was little that Sam could do about it. They'd all been lovely, Sam reflected. Janet, Cassie, and Madison in their pale blue gowns. The men were equally handsome in their uniforms and suits. Daniel in his Armani. Her thoughts were brought back around to him, as they usually were. Sam's bright smile was only for Daniel as she approached the pair.

As Daniel's wife reached them, Jack straightened and sent another affectionate smile toward his friends. Leaning forward, he gave her a kiss, "Carter...Samantha...you are radiant. Congratulations. You need to drag your husband out for a dance while I go find my date."

Daniel chuckled softly at Sam's faint blush over Jack's uncharacteristically warm and public show of affection. Taking her hand, Daniel led her back to the dance floor as the first strains of Yanni's _Reflections of Passion_ began. Pulling her into his arms, Daniel guided them into the steps of a simple, old-style waltz. Gazing into her brilliant sapphire eyes, he knew he was the luckiest man on Earth...or any other planet for that matter.

O'Neill felt a mental pull and turned to see Madison crossing the room, headed in his direction. She looked as lovely clad in her dark jeans and light top as she had arrayed in the simple, ice-blue satin bridesmaid gown earlier. Six months had seen lots of changes with them as well. They had grown closer and Jack guessed they would be considered a couple now as off-duty, their time was mostly spent together at his place or hers. He had yet to actually say the words _I love you_, but they were there, and shown in lots of little ways. He planned on making his own proposal...soon. It felt right to wait until after the Jacksons' wedding so that one event did not overshadow the other. Besides, there was time. Jack and Madison were only growing closer as the days and weeks passed. Smiling at Madison, he reached out and took her hand, his dark eyes warm with affection that only she could see. "Feel better?"

"Much," she said on a relieved breath. She smiled up at him, blue eyes sparkling with an answering affection and the happiness his proximity usually provoked. "You're thinking about something awfully hard standing here all by yourself." He may or may not tell her what it was, and that was always okay. She didn't have to know the every inner working of his mind to be secure or satisfied in the relationship that had grown between them. Instead, she left that opening for him to share if he so chose and inclined her head at him. "Have I mentioned how much I like that uniform." The corners of her mouth were quirking toward a playful grin.

"Actually, I was thinking about the future and how much brighter it looks than it has in years," Jack answered, "and that the bride looks radiant and the bridegroom looks happier than I think I've ever seen him." He gently drew Madison to him and began swaying slowly to the strains of the beautiful _New Age_ waltz. "I was also thinking about what a wonderful day it was, how lovely you are, and how soon I can get out of this uniform."

"I'm sure something could be arranged very soon." Her hand slid up to cup the back of his neck, fingers toying with his closely cropped hair. "It was a beautiful day," she agreed, "and they deserved it." She glanced over to where Daniel and Sam were swaying together, eyes only for each other. Her gaze returned to her date and softened. "You're looking very pleased yourself." He wanted this for them as much as they'd wanted it for each other. "You're a good friend, Jack. They're lucky to have you in their lives."

"I'm sure one or the other would argue that point on any given day," Jack replied with a laugh. "What about you, do you feel lucky to have me in _your_ life?" He watched her expression carefully as he asked the question.

"As a matter of fact, I do." She grinned up at him. "You're stubborn, occasionally grouchy, and downright ornery sometimes." Her eyes lit with amusement, but more than that it was warmth and love that shone in their blue depths. "You're also very charming when you want to be, and you make me laugh with that sarcastic wit of yours." Her expression grew more serious for a moment. "You're a good man, Jack. I do feel lucky to have you in my life, even with everything that put you there. I have no regrets."

"Good," Jack responded rather enigmatically. "Bodes well for the future." He swung her around to the music with a practiced flourish. In fact, Jack thought, as he danced with the woman he hoped to someday make his wife and looked out over the gathering of friends and friends who had become family, the events on Raahe had come close to destroying them. Jack knew that he would not have survived himself if Daniel had died at his hands. Instead, Daniel had recovered and was stronger than ever due to having finally recognized and admitting his feelings for Carter. She too, Jack noted fondly, seemed to take on a new confidence and that had to have blossomed from the fact that she could now acknowledge long-buried feelings. For something he deplored dealing with, _feelings_ had a lot of power over everyone's lives. Jack sighed softly. He would never wear his heart on his sleeve, but he guessed he would have to admit...on rare occasions...that _feelings_ affected him just like they did everyone else. For the colonel, this was quite an epiphany...perhaps of epic proportions.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

Colonel Jack O'Neill glanced around the Gateroom, scowling. He was on the verge of demanding Harriman call Daniel again when the blast doors opened and his errant team member dashed in, running late as always. Daniel glanced at the team and his wife with a sheepish grin, "Sorry, I'm late. I wanted to look over the protocols on when it was correct to refer to the Prime Minister's wife as a cow and when it wasn't." Blue eyes regarded Jack guilelessly.

"Oy," O'Neill snorted before turning and looking up at the Control Room expectantly. The sound of the stargate spinning to life and Harriman counting down the chevrons turned him back toward the stargate. As the wormhole flared to life and then settled back into its shimmering pool of light, he felt his team gather around him, expectant and ready. There was only one thing left...

"Godspeed, SG-1," Hammond's voice called over the intercom system as Jack settled his cap on his head and nodded to his team.


End file.
